m--^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


IIM    11112.5 


1112 


itf    111112.0 


1.4 


.8 


1.6 


/M 


VI 


c" 


<rA 


f^     '■  ^ 


d? 


/ 


/^ 


Photograpllic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


W- 


w. 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


ij 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 


O^ 


Technical  and  Bibiiographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  rJter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  metlicd  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-dtre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  m^thode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


□    Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


D 
D 


□ 


Couverture  endommagde 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicul^e 

Cover  title  missing/ 

Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bidue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 


D 


Bound  with  other  material/ 
Relii  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intdrieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajout6es 
lors  dune  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais.  lorsque  cela  dtait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplimentaires; 


□    Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 

□    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaur6es  et/ou  pelliculdes 


/ 


n 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d^colordes,  tachetdes  ou  piqu§es 


I      I    Pages  detached/ 


Pages  d^tach^es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Quality  indgale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t4  filmdes  d  nouveau  de  fagon  d 
obtenir  la  meiilei!re  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu^  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


26X 


SOX 


12X 


1GX 


»)X 


24X 


28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  hat  been  reproducjd  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

Library  Division 

Provincial  Archives  of  British  Columbia 


L'exemplaire  filmA  fut  reproduit  grAce  A  la 
gAnArositA  de: 

Library  Division 

Provincial  Archives  of  British  Columbi.i 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  images  suivantes  out  AtA  reproduites  avac  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetA  de  l'exemplaire  filmA.  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  e^t  imprimAe  sont  filmAs  en  commengant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autrea  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmv^s  en  commenpant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — *■  (meaning  'CON- 
TINUED "),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning   "END  "), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  largo  to  be 
entirety  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ♦•  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
film^s  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film^  d  partir 
de  Tangle  supiirieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

Cliffd  cf  the  Columbia. 


(Hoe  Ptigc  "27.) 


5*' 

5^ 


* 


fo  ^^p  Pro,  4 


p  ^]^p  jpowi^j 


IN 


WITH 


"M 


gKETCHEg  IN  H1^IZ®NH,  NEW  MEXIC®.  HND 


BY 


EMMA  H.  ADAMS, 

AUTHOR  OF   "  DIOOINO  THE   TOP  OFF,"   AND  OTHER  STORIES. 


i 


ILUJSTI^A'PBD. 


■* 


HUNT    &    EATON, 

1037  Market  St., 

SAN    KRANCISCO,  CA.L. 


* 


."N 


Copyright  by 
EMMA    HILDRETH    ADAMS, 
1888. 


P^EF^iZE. 


To  have  been  eyes  and  ears  for  a  multitude  of 
persons,  during  a  period  of  three  years,  is  to 
have  possessed  a  high  privilege.  Such  a  franchise 
was  afforded  the  author  of  this  work  for  an  inter- 
val of  about  that  length,  which  ended  near  the 
close  of  1886.  Occupied  as  the  correspondent  of 
several  leading  dailies,  and  also  as  an  occasional 
contributor  to  prominent  religious  journals,  she 
traversed  almost  the  entire  American  Pacific  Coast, 
Avith  the  exception  of  Alaska,  ever  bearing  her 
readers  in  'mind. 

The  title  of  this  book  aptly  expresses  the  char- 
acter of  its  contents.  Its  chapters  form  a  series  of 
sketches,  picturing  such  only  of  the  scenes,  events, 
incidents,  industries,  enterprises,  institutions,  and 
people  of  the  coast  as  came  within  the  writer's  ob- 
servation or  knowledge,  and  as,  it  is  believed,  will 
contribute  most  to  the  service  and  enjoyment  of 
the  reader. 

The  favor  with  which  the  writer's  communica- 
tions to  the  press  were  received,  together  with 
frequent  urgings  to  put  into  book  form  her  pains- 
taking studies  of  our  Western  border-land,  have 


15l9il5 


2 


PREFACE. 


resulted  iu  the  volume  now  offered  the  public.  In  a 
new  relation,  therefore,  will  she  continue  to  be  eyes 
and  ears  for  other  multitudes,  whom  opportunity  may 
not  yet  have  favored  with  a  sight  of  the  almost  end- 
less wonders  of  the  Pacific  States,  and  also  to  many 
besides,  who,  having  seen  them,  may  be  glad  to 
refresh  their  memory  of  them  through  these  pictures 
of  the  pen  and  of  the  engraver's  eloquent  art. 

E.  H.  A. 


. ^* 

CHAPTER  I. 

PAOK. 

Westward  Bound, ^1 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Southward  Run ^7 

CHAPTER  III. 
It  's  To-day  and  Yksterday 21 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Old  Times  and  Present  Resources 27 

CHAPTER  V. 
The  Church  and  School-house  ark  the  Pioneers,    .   .     34 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Incidents  of  the  Second  Journey, 39 

CHAPTER  VII. 
From  Deming  to  Tucson, 45 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
Arizona, "^ 

CHAFTER  IX. 
Tucson, •   •     ^' 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X. 

PAGE. 

From  Tucson  to  Lo8  Angklks, 60 

CHAPTER  XI. 
The  City  of  Los  Angeles 64 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Invalids  in  Southern  California, 74 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
What  Shall  We  Wear?    '. 82 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
A  Former  Home  of  General  and  Mrs.  Hancock,  .  .       85 

CHAPTER  XV. 
California's  Great  Historian, 92 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
An  III  Wind  that  Blew  Good, 104 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
A  Singular  Character, 120 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
The  Native  Californians 128 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Schools  of  Los  Angeles, 136 

CHAPTER  XX. 
A  Noble  Pioneer. 146 


CONTENTS.  5 

*  CHAPTER  XXI. 

PAQB. 

Colonization  Schemes, 165 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Vineyards  and  Orange  Groves, 181 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
The  Picos  and  the  Surrender  of  Caiiuenga 193 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
Time  Beguiles  You, 202 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
A  Minister  to  the  Lowliest, 209 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Roses— Pampas  Grass— The  Datura  Arborea,    ...     219 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 
Women  as  Cultivators  of  the  Soil, 227 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
San  Pedro, 237 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
In  the  Santiago  Canon, 248 

•                       CHAPTER  XXX. 
A  Wonderful  Flower  Festival 258 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

From  Los  Angeles  to  San  Francisco, 267 


* 


6  CONTENTS. 

CIIAPTFR  XXXTI. 

PAOK 

From  San  Fkancisco  to  Pobtland  by  Sea, 281 

CFIAPTER  XXXIII. 

Portland  on  the  Vi'ii.i.amette 296 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

The  Salmon  Indi'strv  of  tiik  Columbia, 309 

CHAPTEU  XXXV. 

Some    of    Nature's    Masterpieces    in   the    Cascade 

Range 322 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
In  the  Columbia  Basin, 339 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
A  Noble  Woman — Wh.\t  She  Did— How  She  Did  It,    351 

CHAPT'^R  XXXVIII. 
Oregon's  Capital— Prune-culture 302 

CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Schemes  Aired  Continually, 375        * 

CHAPTER  XL. 

Living  Oregon  Pioneers, 383 

CHAPTER  XLI.                       * 
From  Portland  to  Puget  Sound, 389 

CHAPTER  XLII. 

The  Great  Inland  Sea 398 


CONTENTS.  7 

CHAPTER  XLIII. 

PAOE. 
TrUNINO   TitKES  INTO   MoNKY -108 

CHAPTER  XLTV. 
Tacoma — Full  of  Stumth  and  Entekprisk, 418 

CHAPTER  Al,V. 
The  Expulsion  of  the  Ciii-'-'-sii!, '    431 

CHAPTER  XIA'I. 
A  Rainy  Season  in  the  Pugei  Sound  Valley,  .   .   .      447 

CHAPTER  XT.VII. 

Hops  Turning  into  Soil— A  Visit  to  one  of  the  Hop- 
farms  of  the  Puyam.up, 400 

CHAPTER  XI.VIII. 
The  Great  Territory  and  its  Resources, 47U 

CHAPTER  XLIX. 
British  Columbia — In  the  Little  Island  City,  .   .         492 

CHAPTER  L. 
In  the  Little  Island  City, 503 

CHAPTER  LI. 
Queen  Victoria's  American  Domain, 611 

CHAPTER  LII. 
The  Return  Down  the  Sound, 528 

CHAPTER  LIII. 
The  i3\viTZKRLAND  of  America, 538 


•^smg^^mmmg^m^Bm 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  LIV. 

PAGE. 

Jacksonville,  and  Gold-mining  in  Southern  Oregon,    553 

CHAPTER  LV. 

Ashland,  at  the  Base  of  the  Siskiyous 569 

CHAPTER  LVI. 
A  Peculiar  Wedding-trip, 580 

CHAPTER  LVIL 
Over  the  Siskiyous— Down  the  Canon  of  the  Sac- 
ramento,           594 


^1 


it   ■ 


4-^ 


■.,!■: 


tIiLtUST5^TlO]VIS. 


i»  !• 


PAGB. 

Cliffs  of  the  Columbia, Frontispiece. 

Primitive  Plow, 24 

Homes  of  the  Cliff-dwellers, 25 

One  of  the  Pioneers, 35 

A  Group  of  Cacti, 41 

Salix  Babylonica — Weeping  Willow, 46 

Cactus  Opuntia — Prickly  Pear, 48 

Locomotion  among  the   Mexicans, 52 

An  Adobe  Ruin, 65 

Temiscal,  or  Indian  Sweat-house, 101 

The  Fig 108 

A  Drove  of  Ostriches, 112 

An   Avenue  of  Eucalypti, 117 

A  Rural  Home  in  Southern  California, 134 

Corridor,  San  Luis  Rey  Mission 151 

Sacristy,      "        "        "         "         155 

Fan  Palms 174 

The  Pepper-tree, 184 

Raisin  Grapes, 186 

Time  Beguiles, 203 

Ruins  of  Mission  Church,  San  Diego, 212 

Ruins,  San  Juan  Capistrano, 216 

Agave  Americanus — The  Century  Plant, 225 

The  Sierra  Madre  Villa, 233 

The  Pomegranate, 239 

A  California  Live-oak, 249 

A  Pee  Farm 250 

The  Honey-makers, 257 

Mission  of  San  Fernando, 271 

Valley  of  the  San  Joaquin, 277 

Glaciers  of  Mt.  Tacf)iTia 280 

The  Golden  Gate 287 

Tillamook  Light, 291 

Portland,   Oregon, 299 

Mt.  Hood, 301 

9 


10 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAOE. 

Residence  of  ScMiator  Dolph, 303 

Salmon-fishing, 316 

A  Home  in  the  ^Mountains, 323 

Rooster  Roclc  and  the  Needles, 326 

.Cape  Horn,  Columbia  River, 328 

Multnomah  Falls,  Oregon, 331 

Bright  Views  of  Other  Falls, 333 

Cascades  of  the  Columbia  River, 335 

A  View  on  the   Columbia, 337 

Spokane  Falls,   Columbia  Basin, 342 

Emigrants  Crossing  the  ]\Iountains, 353 

First  Street,  Portland,  Oregon, 377 

Ferrying  a  Train, 391 

Lumber-mill,  Tacoma,  Washington  Territory, 410 

Washington   Territory   Saw-logs, 415 

Coal-bunkers,  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  Tacoma,   .    .    .  421 
St.  Peter's  Chapel,  Tacoma,  Oldest  Bell-tower   on    the 

Coast, 425 

A  Camp  of  Indians, 461 

Hop-kilns,  Puyallup  Valley, 466 

CJreen  River  Scenery,   481 

(/ascade  Mountain  Scenery, 486 

Arctic    Exploration, 501 

The  Wilds  of  Omineca, 528 

A  Road  to  the  IMines, 525 

The   Fur-seal, 530 

A  Scene  in  the  Umpqua  Valley, 542 

Nut  Store-houses  of  the  Indians, 548 

Conveying  Water  to  the  Mines,  ...       563 

A  California  Scene, 606 

Tirendj-si.c  <)llu'r  I llnsi rations  at  end  of  Chapters. 


TO  ^]^P  ¥^0 


IN 


Southern  California. 


OJestwai^d  Bound. 


SOON  after  dark  of  a  cold  December  night,  1 883, 
a  carriage  conta-riing  three  persons,  the  writer 
being  one,  whirled  rapidly  over  the  glistening,  snow- 
covered  pavement  toward  the  great  Union  Depot  in 

C .     Two  of  us  had   begun   the  journey  to  the 

far-off  Pacific  coast.  The  third  occupant,  after  the 
good-bye  and  the  parting,  was  to  roturn  alone  into 
the  city. 

Of  us  who  were  westward  bound,  one  was  very 
ill,  and,  as  it  proved,  was  in  a  double  sense  hasten- 
ing towards  the  sunset. 

Soon  we  were  nicely  settled  in  the  luxurious 
sleeper.  Around  us  stood  a  gratifying  arrny  of 
boxes  and  baskets,  which  loving  hands  had  packed 
with  delicacies  for  the  invalid  and  substantial  pro- 
visions for  the  other. 

ti 


12 


THROUGH  KANSAS. 


Time  sped,  and  when  the  clock  opposite  the  train 
indicated  the  hour  for  starting,  but  two  of  us  were 
left  on  board.  The  wheels  began  to  turn.  A  man 
took  the  cards  oft'  the  cars  and  walked  away.  Then 
out  of  the  noisy  building  we  rolled,  into  star-light 
and  snow-light.  On  we  went,  past  hamlet,  and 
town,  and  farm,  until,  soon  after  sunrise  the  second 
morning,  we  rumbled  into  Kansas  City. 

Then  took  place  those  agreeable  little  episodes  of 
the  trans-continental  journey,  the  transferring  our- 
selves to  the  shining  Pullman  of  the  Atchison, 
Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe  railway,  the  weighing  and 
re-checking  of  baggage,  and  the  taking  breakfast. 
This  all  done,  we  glided  oif  across  the  broad,  lib- 
erty-loving State  of  Kansas.  Bare  and  desolate  as 
were  the  famous  plains  at  that  season,  they  were 
made  intensely  interesting  by  the  thrilling  expe- 
riences they  recalled,  connected  with  overland  trav- 
eling in  an  early  day.  Dashing  along  at  a  rapid 
rate,  well  protected  from  the  dust  and  cold,  and  as 
comfortable  as  if  in  a  parlor,  how  faintly  we  real- 
ized the  depressing  tediousness  of  toiling  over  those 
dreary  stretches  behind  a  slow  ox-team ! 

Armed  cap-a-pie  were  most  of  those  early  ad- 
venturers into  the  wilds  of  the  West,  with  patience, 
hope,  and  courage.  That  is  a  curious  and  startling 
element  in  human  nature,  which  leads  men  to  face 
danger  from  choice;  to  push  out  from  comfort  into 
hardship ;  away  from  privilege  into  privation.     But 


M 


I 


IVES T  \VA KD  BO  UND. 


13 


le  train 
us  were 
A  man 
.  Then 
Lar-light 
ilet,  and 
e  second 

isodes  of 
ring  our- 
A-tchison, 
hing  and 
breakfast, 
road,  lib- 
esolate  as 
hey  were 
ing  expe- 
and  trav- 
it  a  rapid 
Id,  and  as 
y  we  real- 
over  those 

early  ad- 
1  patience, 
d  startling 
en  to  face 

mfort  into 
itiun.     But 


so  have  men  again  and  again  followed  the  Star  of 
Empire  around  the   earth. 

The  sight  of  a  vast  plain,  as  of  a  great  mount- 
ain, leaves  a  deep  im})res.sion  upon  the  mind.  Both 
suggest  the  possession  of  mighty  power  by  the  Archi- 
tect of  the  world.  As  to  that,  power  always  im- 
presses us,  be  it  lodged  in  the  winds,  in  steam,  in 
the  little  plant  forcing  its  way  out  of  the  soil,  or  in 
the  Creator's  hand,  lifting  the  rocks  up  into  mount- 
ains, or  rolling  millions  of  acres  out  into  plains, 
level  as  a  floor. 

As  we  approached  the  western  verge  of  the  State, 
the  country  became  first  nndulating,  then  hilly,  and 
as  we  neared  the  border  of  Colorado  it  began  to 
stand  upright,  Avliile  far  in  the  west  snow-capped 
summits  appeared.  Tt  was  a  new  thing  to  l)e  able 
to  see  objects  eighty  miles  distant,  as  an  attache  of 
our  parlor  car  affirmed  were  some  of  the  snow- 
cones  of  the  Greenhorn  Range. 

Running  on  to  La  Junta,  Colorado,  where  the 
road  makes  a  decided  turn  towards  the  south,  we 
soon  had  a  fine  view  of  the  summit  of  Pike's  Peak, 
declared  by  the  conductor  to  be  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  to  the  northward.  Suddenly  foot-hills, 
clothed  with  snow  and  cedars,  sprang  up  all  around 
us.  Then  our  train  began  to  cliud),  the  upward 
tendency  of  our  course  being  very  perco{)tible.  We 
were  pushing  on  towards  the  Raton  Pass,  in  the 
mountains  of  tliat  name. 


'fl" 


n 


14 


THROUGH  KANSAS. 


On  our  riglit  about  this  time,  were  discovered 
the  majestic  Spanish  Peaks,  three  cones,  snow-tipped 
and  looming  up  finely.  Arrived  at  the  base  of  tiie 
rugged  Raton  Range,  the  strength  of  our  one  engine 
was  insufficient  to  carry  us  up  to  the  tunnel  through 
which  the  road  crosses  the  summit.  Accordingly, 
"Uncle  Ned,"  one  of  the  largest  locomotives  in  the 
United  States,  and  certainly  a  mighty  fellow,  was 
marched  to  the  front  to  "lend  a  hand."  And 
nobly  did  he  perform  the  task.  Sweeping  up  that 
steep  grade  was  a  splendid  piece  of  climbing.  A 
strong  wind  blew  down  the  pass  into  the  giant's 
face.  The  car  in  Avhieh  we  rode  strained,  creaked, 
and  swayed  as  we  went  up  and  up,  turning  around 
this  shoulder  and  around  that.  Several  young 
ladies  in  the  car  were  in  terror,  lest  Uncle  Ned 
should  lose  his  foot-hold,  and  let  them  go  rolling 
down  the  mountain-side,  to  become  the  victims  of  ji 
second  Tehachapi  disaster.  tTa])j)i]y  he  was  shod  for 
the  steep  roadway  of  steel,  and  no  casualty  occurred. 

If  I  am  correct,  it  has  been  the  happy  privilege 
of  Uncle  Ned  to  pull  up  to  the  tunnel  in  the  Raton 
Pass,  every  westward-bound  passenger  train  since 
the  coni])letion  of  the  road  to  this  time.  Men  b(;- 
come  attached  to  inanimate  things,  and  I  was  told 
that  the  employees  of  the  road  have  a  regard  for 
this  engine,  mueii  like  that,  a  brave  general  feels  for 
ail  iiitvlligent  horse  which  has  borne  him  through 
many  a  well-fought  battle. 


WESTWARD  BOUND. 


15 


On  the  train,  much  interested  in  Uncle  Ned's 
struggle  for  the  ascendency,  were  Mr.  James  C. 
Warner  and  his  wife,  of  Chicago,  bound  for  Mel- 
bourne, Australia.  Mr.  Warner  is  an  English  elec- 
trician, and  among  that  class  of  scientists  is  known 
as  an  able  inventor.  He  goes  to  the  Fifth  Conti- 
nent as  the  agent  of  the  Western  Electric  Company, 
and  in  the  city  of  Melbourne  will  superintend  the 
application,  to  machines  already  in  use,  the  latest 
imjirovements  in  telephonic  apparatus.  This  com- 
pany, he  informed  me,  controls  the  system  of  tele- 
phones now  working  in  that  city,  and  hopes,  by 
promptly  attaching  thereto  every  important  new 
appliance,  to  secure  a  market  for  its  instruments  in 
other  towns  of  Australia.  Mr.  W^arner  has  more 
the  air  of  an  unpretending  farmer  than  of  a  devout 
student  in  the  realm  of  electricity. 

The  boundary  line  between  Colorado  and  New 
Mexico  runs  through  the  Raton  Tunnel,  about  raid- 
way  of  its  length.  We  crossed  this  line,  eight 
thousand  feet  above  sea-level,  a  couple  of  hours 
after  lark.  A  sensation  of  descent,  as  distinct  as 
that  wo  had  experienced  of  ascent  in  going  up,  told 
us  the  moment  wo  had  passed  this  confine.  This 
l)rought  us  into  Colfax  County,  New  Mexico,  one 
of  the  largest  and  most  promising  sections  of  the 
TiMM'itory,  it  being  a  well-known  stock  region.  Dur- 
ing the  night  our  route  lay,  first,  amid  austere  mount- 
ain scenery,  and  then  across  broad  mesas  and  plains. 


!f 


16 


THROUGH  KANSAS. 


In  the  following  sketches,  which  pertain  partic- 
ularly to  New  Mexico  and  Arizona,  I  have  mingled 
the  accounts  of  two  trips  across  the  Great  American 
Desert,  between  which  nearly  three  years  inter- 
vened. With  the  exception  of  a  single  episode  or 
two,  I  have  so  woven  these  together  as  to  make  them 
read  like  the  observations  of  one  journey,  ignoring 
dates,  and  endeavoring  only  to  present  clearly  the 
facts  gleaned.  Instead  of  receiving  detriment  by 
the  arrangement,  it  is  believed  the  reader  will  rather 
be  benefited.  Should  it  appear  necessary  to  intro- 
duce a  date  at  any  point  for  the  clearer  apprehen- 
sion of  the  reader,  it  will  be  done. 


II 


II, 


She  Souifhwai^d  I^un. 


A  STAR-ROUTE  MAN. 

DURING  the  night  we  drew  up  at  a  small  town 
named    "Dorsey,"    after    the    famous    "Star 
Route"  Senator,  now  a    resident   of  New  Mexico. 
We   had  supposed   this  town  to  be  located  not  far 
from  Mr.  Dorsey's  great  stock   farm.     But  in  this 
we     were    mistaken.       The    next     station,    called 
Springer,  is  the  nearer  his  home,  and  is  the  place 
where  he  always  takes   the  cars  when  bound  on  a 
visit  to  the  outside  world.     Mr.  Dorsey's  immense 
farm,  according   to   a  personal  acquaintance  of  the 
ex-Senator,  riding   in    the   seat   next   us,  lies  some 
thirty  miles  from  the  railway.     Upon  it  he  is  now 
erecting   an    expensive    and    handsome    residence, 
"one  staircase  in  which,"  said  the  gentleman,  'Svill 
cost  him  seven   hundred   dollars."     Mr.  Dorsey  is 
the   possessor  of  large    flocks   and  herds,  and,  not- 
withstanding the  taint  upon  his  reputation  inflicted 
by  the  memorable  star-route  investigation,  he  exerts 
some  political  influence  in  the  Territory. 

17 


V 


■^1- 


t-4 


r 


18 


NEW  MEXICO. 


ANTELOPE,    A  WOLF. 
While  wc  were  speeding  over  the  plains  in  this 
county   the   second   time,  which    was   by  daylight, 
some  one  raised  the  cry : 

"  See  the  antelope !  see  the  antelope !" 
And  on  looking  out  of  the  windows  we  saw  a 
small  group  of  the  graceful  creatures  quietly  feed- 
ing, a  few  rods  from  the  train.  And  not  long  after, 
quite  as  rare  a  sight  was  presented,  when  a  savage 
wolf  stalked  away  from  us,  over  the  parch ''d  grass. 
He  held  his  head  aloft  and  appeared  as  if  he  did  n't 
care  a  penny  for  the  comfort  of  traveling  by  steam. 

ALBUQUERQUE. 
Morning  found  us  at  Albuquerque,  the  lafgest 
city  in  New  Mexico,  having  a  population  of  about 
ten  thousand  souls.  The  place  received  its  name 
from  the  Duke  of  Albuquerque,  for  four  years  the 
Spanish  Governor  and  Ca2)tain-general  of  New 
Mexico,  in  the  seventeenth  century.  It  is  quite 
noted  for  the  educational  advantages  it  possesses, 
while,  as  yet,  no  efficient  system  of  public  schools 
maintains  in  the  Territory.  Tlie  Albuquerque 
Academy  is  a  ])n)mising  institution,  supervised  by 
Protestants.  There  is  also  conducted  a  Calliolic; 
school  of  considerable  strength;  while  on  a  fann 
near  the  city  flourishes  the  United  States  Industrial 
School  for  Indian  Ciiildren.  To  this  even  juvenile 
Apaehcs  are  admitted  witliout  a  fear  of  their   taking 


11 


ATJU'QUEliQUl!:. 


19 


in  this 
ylight, 


saw  a 
y  feccl- 


g  after, 
savage 
1  grass. 
'.  cVkI  n't 
r  steam. 

lafgest 
)f  about 
ts  name 
ars  the 
f    New 
is  quite 
ossesses, 
schools 
querque 
sod  by 
Catholic 
a  farm 
iiliistrial 
juvenile 
c   taking 


;i 


to  the  war-path.  The  school  is  said  to  have  been 
modeled  after  those  at  Hampton  and  Carlisle. 

As  certain  evidences  of  its  future  growth,  the 
city  points  to  its  central  location ;  to  the  rich  val- 
leys lying  north  and  south  of  it;  to  its  contiguous 
coal  and  mineral  mines;  to  its  imjiortanco  as  a  rail- 
road center,  and  best  of  all,  to  the  activity  and 
public  spirit  of  its  citizens. 

The  first  objects  to  arrest  attention,  on  our  leav- 
ing the  train  for  breakfast,  were  a  dozen  or  less 
savage-looking  Indians,  sitting,  standing,  lying 
down,  on  the  broad  veranda  of  the  hotel.  Men 
and  women  were  clad  in  the  same  costume — lieavy 
woolen  blankets  wrapped  about  the  shoulders,  and 
thick  leggings  tied  above  the  knee.  The  .sky  was 
overclouded,  and  a  fierce  wind  swept  every  inch  of 
the  piazza.  Yet  there  they  remained,  bronzed  stat- 
ues, silently  watching  the  passengers  come  and  go, 
until  the  train  pulled  out  southward.  Not  the  ves- 
tige of  a  smile,  or  an  emotion,  lighted  up  their 
coarse  features.     Possibly  their  thought  was : 

"  What  wonderful  beings  these  white-skins  are!" 
And  possibly:  "What  thieves  and  robbers!"  But 
whatever  their  o[)inions,  they  will  be  spoken  only 
to  one  another. 

No  sooner  does  one  interested  in  the  huuian 
race,  enter  New  Mexico,  than  he  becomes  curious 
in  regard  to  certain  Indian  tribes  dwelling  in  the 
Territory.      By   the    term   "Indian"    I    nuan,  not 


n 


20 


NEW  MEXICO. 


I; 


I 


simply  wild  R(m1  men,  hut  the  inliahitiints  of  hoth 
American  continents!  when  first  invaded  hy  Euro- 
peans. This  includes  the  nations  and  tribes  of  the 
United  States,  the  peoples  whom  C'ortez  subjugated 
in  Mexico  and  Central  America,  and  the  race  whom 
Pizarro  overthrow  in  JVru,  all  of  whom  ethnolo- 
gists now  conveniently  group  together  under  the 
term,  "the  American  race."  But  arousing  a  pro- 
founder  curiosity  are  those  earlier  peoples,  who  long 
preceded  the  American  race,  the  ruins  of  whose 
works  ar(^  a  marvel  to-day.  Of  their  mighty  builders 
no  reliable  account  can  be  given.  The  very  aspect 
of  New  Mexico  starts  trains  of  thought  about  those 
old,  old  occupants  of  the  laud.  How  long  ago 
they  lived,  here,  in  Yucatan,  in  Peru,  no  pen  can 
tell.     So  we  turn  a  leaf  and  write  about  the  country. 


i 


IIT. 

Its  So-Day  and  Y.bstpbi^day. 


NEW  MEXICO,  acquired  from  the  Republic  of 
Mexico  by  the  treaty  of  Giiadahipe-Hidalgo, 
is  a  quaint  and  singular  portion  (»f  the  Unitid  States. 
Thousands  of  its  acres  are  mere  dismal  stretches  of 
sand.  Yet,  stand  where  one  may,  mountain  chains 
diversify  the  landscape.  West  of  the  Rio  Grande  the 
spurs  of  the  Sierra  Madre — the  connecting  link  be- 
tween the  lofty  Sierras  of  Old  Mexico  and  the  great 
heights  of  Colorado — push  out  into  the  desert  in 
every  direction,  reckless,  apparently,  of  all  law  and 
order.  "Everywhere  on  its  surface  the  extremes  of 
scenery  meet."  The  valleys  between  these  spurs  are 
susceptible  of  extraordinary  cultivation.  Their  mean 
altitude  above  the  sea  is  forty-five  hundred  feet. 
Though  a  radiant,  sunny  region,  it  is  yet  a  strange  and 
lot^ly  land,  a  land  given  up  to  silence  a'ul  the  winds. 
True,  one  may  not  now,  as  did  Antonio  de  Espejo 
three  hundred  years  ago,  "  travel  fifteen  days  in  the 
province  without  meeting  any  people;"  still,  even 
in  this  year  of  grace  1883,  and  employing  the  mod- 
ern mode  of  progress,  one  may  ride  for  hours  over 
the  desolate  wastes  and   see  almost   no  inhabitants. 

Occasionally  the  traiu  dashes  past  a  low  adobe  hut, 

3  21 


I 


\i 


22 


NEW  MEXICO. 


far  away  from  any  town,  but  lie  catclios  no  glimpse 
of  the  inmates.  There  are  no  faees  of  eliildren  at 
the  little  square  windows,  no  forms  in  the  low  door- 
way. The  ordinary  tokens  of  civilization,  seen  all 
along  the  great  railroads  throughout  the  East,  are 
absent  here.  Corn  fields,  Avheat  fields,  and  orchards 
are  rare,  except  near  the  villages,  or  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  Rio  Grande. 

Nevertheless,  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  New 
Mexico  is  without  population.  In  1881  it  exceeded 
in  number  cf  inhabitants  any  other  territory  of  the 
Union,  except  the  District  of  Columbia.  The  cen- 
sus of  1880  gave  it  nearly  121,000  people,  the 
natives  being  in  strongest  force.  But  what  seems  a 
little  startling,  unless  one  is  conversant  with  the 
past  history  of  this  part  of  our  country,  is,  that  in 
Espejo's  day  New  Mexico  sustained  a  much  greater 
multitude  of  people  than  at  present.  In  the  inter- 
ests of  Spain  that  officer  traversed  districts  which 
embraced  "fourteen,  twenty,  thirty,  and  even  fifty 
thousand  persons."  This  was  in  the  northern  por- 
tion of  the  province,  however,  and  these  communi- 
ties were  assemblages  of  the  Pueblo  Indians,  a 
people  whom  he  found  to  he  not  only  e:  tremely 
industrious  and  living  peaceably  under  their  ca- 
ciques, but  also  possessing  many  of  the  luxuries  of 
life,  practicing  numerous  arts  of  civilization,  and 
exhibiting  toward  strangers  an  ungrudging  hospital- 
ity.    A  recent  report  by  the  Governor  of  the  Ter- 


ITS  TO-DA  Y  AND  YESTERDA  Y. 


23 


110  glimpse 
iliiUlii'ii  at 
;  low  door- 
)n,  seen  all 
2  East,  are 
id  orchards 
the  vicinity 

1  that  New 
it  exceeded 
tory  of  the 
The  cen- 
people,  the 
hat  seems  a 
it  with  the 
,  is,  that  in 
iich  greater 
1  the  inter- 
tricts  which 
\  even  fifty 
)rthern  por- 
e  communi- 

Indians,  a 
Y  e'  tremely 
or  their  ca- 

luxuries  of 
lizatiou,  and 
ing  hospital- 

of  the  Ter- 


1. 


ritory  asserts  that  ten  thousand  of  these  Pueblos 
now  dwell  in  New  Mexico,  and  offer  to  the  student 
of  ethnology  a  subject  as  fascinating  as  when  the 
Spaniards  invaded  the  land.  An  intelligent  writer 
upon  the  times  and  history  of  these  ancient  New 
Mexicans,  says  of  them,  substantially : 

"They  were  a  nation  who  lived  permanently  in 
homes,  some  of  them  in  houses  built  of  stone,  five 
lofts  in  height.  They  tilled  the  soil;  constructed 
irrigating  ditches  to  water  their  corn  fields  and 
gardens;  made  thoughtful  provision  against  famine; 
wove  cloths;  wore  i)ainted  mantles;  had  articles  of 
dress  embroidered  in  needle-work;  used  jewelry 
made  of  the  turquois,  emerald,  and  garnet;  and 
administered  wholesome  la WS; generations  before  the 
landing  of  Columbus." 

New  Mexico  abounds  in  legends  and  folk-lore 
relating  to  this  race.  And  the  many  remains  of 
ancient  towns  and  cities,  planted  by  its  members  on 
her  hills,  plateaus,  and  desert  borders,  tell  in  some 
degree  how  they  lived  and  have  passed  away.  Old 
mines,  "caved  in  and  covered  up,"  together  with 
"ruined  smelters,  surrounded  bj  heaps  of  imperish- 
able slag,"  evince  their  knowledge  of  the  minerals 
with  which  the  mountains  teem.  The  broken 
pottery,  sacred  images,  and  other  domestic  relics 
left  by  them,  have  rendered  New  Mexico  a  delight- 
ful field  for  the  arelueologist  and  antiquarian  for 
nearly  a  hrlf  century  past. 


f^ll 


i! 


ii 


J    M 


24 


NEW  MEXICO. 


A  district  particularly  rich  in  these  aucicnt 
tokens  is  the  county  of  Rio  Arriba,  in  the  north- 
western part  of  the  territory.  Plere  the  traveler 
finds  himself  in  the  old  realm  of  the  Cliff  D\v:llers, 
where  now  may  be  seen  the  ruins  of  many  of  their 
villages,  and  where,  burled  out  of  sight  beneath 
mounds  of  slowly  accumulated  soil,  lie  numerous 
<Dthers. 


PrimiUve  Flow 

"  Judging  by  the  depth  of  the  earth  above  them," 
says  one  of  the  officials  of  that  county,  "this  people 
must  have  settled  the  coimtry  thousands  of  years 
ago."  Some  of  their  ancient  cities  were  of  vast 
extent.  Remains  of  them  exist  in  the  valleys,  on 
the  mesas,  on  the  mountains,  and  far  up  the  sides 
of  rocky  cliffs,  which  present  an  almost  perpendic- 
ular front. 

But  between  the  era  of  the  prosperous  Village 
Indians,  and  the  domination  of  the  Americans  in 
New  ^Mexico,  there  intervened  another  nation.  It 
came  into  tiie  country  bearing  the  gospel  of  peace 
in  one  hand  and  the  sword  in  the  other;  came  in  to 
vanquish,  not  to  uplift  and  improve.  It  built  royal 
edifices,  "exacting  from  the  hitherto  happy  Pueblos" 


i  :f 


ITS  TO-DAY  A]S'D   YESTERDAY. 


25 


e  aucient 
he  north- 
s  traveler 

D\v:llers, 
ly  of  their 
t   beueath 

numerous 


ove  them," 
this  people 
ds  of  years 
3re  of  vast 
alleys,  on 
p  the  sides 
perpendic- 

)us  Village 
nericans  in 
nation.  It 
111  of  peace 
came  in  to 
built  royal 
>v  Pueblos" 


slavish       nnd 
unrequited  la-  i)j 
bor.    And  not 

seldom  did  it  inflict  upon  IL  \ 
them   the  cruel   punish- 
ments of  the  Inquisition. 
By  its   rapacious   policy 
was     bep;otten,    in      the 


HoiT.ea  of  the  Cliff-Dwellers. 
course  of  years,  a  spirit  of  revolt  and  revenge  which,  in 


Ms 


If 


II 


26 


NEW  MEXICO. 


ill 


1680,  turned  the  peaceful  })rovinee  into  a  scene  of 
furious  incendiarism  and  bloodshed. 

Perhaps  nowhere  on  either  of  the  American 
continents  where  the  Spaniards  obtained  sway,  did 
'they  display  toward  the  races  they  sul)jugated  a 
greater  tyra;nny,  or  a  more  studied  treachery,  than 
in  the  country  by  themselves  called,  "The  Kingdom 
and  Province  of  New  Mexico,"  and  which  then 
included,  besides  the  New  Mexico  of  our  day,  the 
whole  of  Arizona  and  a  portion  of  Colorado. 

The  invasion  of  the  Spaniards  took  place  "about 
one  hundred  years  before  the  Pilgrims  set  foot  upon 
Plymouth  Rock."  Yet  to-day  the  strong  and 
ornate  structures  they  reared,  some  in  ruins,  others 
in  comparatively  good  preservation,  occupy  many  a 
vantage  ground  of  the  region.  Thus  one  finds  here 
the  eloquent  works,  as  well  as  the  living  represent- 
atives of  two  former  races,  both  of  which  have  lost 
control  of  the  country.  All  this,  and  more,  tends 
to  throw  over  the  Territory  of  New  Mexico  a  fas- 
cination and  an  air  of  romance  which  years  will  fail 
to  dispel.  Indeed,  in  greater  or  less  degree,  the 
same  weird  interest  is  aroused  by  all  this  dreamy, 
desert  portion  of  the  United  States.  The  vegeta- 
tion is  unique.  A  blue  haze  veils  the  mountains. 
The  distances  deceive.     The  mirages  are  illusions. 

At  the  close  of  the  Spanish  dominion  there 
succeeded  the  Mexican  regime.  This,  in  turn,  was 
followed  by  the  American  occupation  in  1848. 


scene 


of 


American 
sway,  did 
(jugated  a 
lierv,  than 
I  Kingdom 
/hich  then 
r  day,  the 
do. 


ace 


i( 


about 
t  foot  upon 
itrong    and 
jins,  others 
ipy  many  a 
s  finds  here 
;  represent- 
ih  have  lost 
nore,  tends 
}xico  a  fas- 
ars  will  fail 
degree,  the 
lis  dreamy, 
^he  vegeta- 

monntains. 

illusions, 
iniou    there 
n  turn,  was 
n  1848. 


IV. 

Old  Simbs  and  ©i^bsemip  I^esouf^ges. 


NEW  MEXICO,  as  now  constituted,  contains  an 
area  of  121,201  square  miles.  Its  average 
breadth  is  three  hundred  and  sixty-seven  miles;  its 
average  length,  throe  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles. 
Unquestionably  it  is  one  of  the  healthiest  portions  of 
the  country,  "  being  absolutely  free  from  all  causes  of 
disease."  Warm  at  midday,  the  nights  are  cool,  and 
the  temperature  of  the  mountains  is  everywhere  de- 
lightful. Among  the  names  of  its  counties  we  find  the 
illustrious  ones  of  Lincoln,  Grant,  and  Colfax,  Its 
chief  cities  are  Santa  Fe,  the  capital,  Albuquerque, 
already  mentioned,  and  the  point  at  which  the  At- 
lantic and  Pacific  Railway  leaves  the  Atchison, 
Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe  road  for  San  Francisco,  Los 
Vegas,  celebrated  for  its  hot  springs,  Las  Cruces, 
Silver  City,  Doming,  and  some  others. 

In  age  and  historic  interest,  as  well  as  in  legend- 
ary charm,    Santa  Fe,   colonized  and  re-named  by 
,  the  Spaniards  in  1598,  stands  pre-eminent.     Prob- 
ably no  other  spot  in  all  this  lower  portion  of  our 

land  is  so  rich  in  old  Indian  traditions,  in  memories 

27 


I 


f 

,' 

1! 

t; 

t 

iij 

i 

-i'. 

■n 

1  fl 
1   1 

'  1 

— . L. 


h  if 


F 


r,  i; 


li  ■ 


28 


NEW  MEXICO. 


of  the  relentless  Spanish  rule,  and  In  reminiscences 
Oi  the  intrepid  Rocky  Mountain  fur  traders.  Its 
plaza,  streets,  buildings,  and  some  special  precincts, 
are  eloquent  with  the  deeds  of  the  three  races  which 
have  successively  held  sway  there. 

Prior  to  the  Spanish  settlement,  the  place  was 
the  governing  center  for  a  group  of  Indian  villages 
which  were  confederated  under  one  cacique,  and 
enjoyed  a  remarkable  pros'- ^rity,  if  we  may  credit 
the  testimony  of  their  conquerors.  These  were  vil- 
lages of  the  gentle  "Tanos  people,"  upon  whom 
were  executed,  after  1662,  some  of  the  harsh  edicts 
of  the  Inquisition. 

Among  the  points  of  attraction  belonging  to  a 
former  day  are  the  old  Church  of  San  Miguel,  the 
Cathedral  of  San  Francisco,  Fort  Marcy,  certain 
old  landmarks  of  the  American  fur  traders,  and  the 
structure  called  the  Governor's  Residence.  The 
latter  is  said  to  be  the  oldest,  and  the  only  building 
in  the  United  States,  preserved  since  the  Spanish 
sway,  which  is  distinctively  called  a  palace.  It  is 
now  familiarly  known  as  the  Governor's  Residence, 
and  is  occupied  by  the  American  Governor  of  the 
Territory.  No  single  feature  of  the  old  city  excites 
more  interest  in  the  minds  of  visitors  than  does  this 
dwelling. 

It  is  a  one-story,  adobe  structure,  with  very 
thick  walls,  like  all  such  works  left  by  the  Span- 
iards,  and    is   supposed   to   have   been   erected   by 


OLD  TIMES  AND  PRESENT  liESOUItCES.      29 


ti  reminiscences 
ir  traders.  Its 
pecial  precincts, 
ree  races  wliich 

;,  the  place  was 
Indian  villages 
le  cacique,  and 
we  may  credit 
These  were  vil- 
j,"  upon  whom 
the  harsh  edicts 


belonging  to  a 
3an  Miguel,  the 

Marcy,  certain 
traders,  and  the 
esidence.  The 
le  only  building 
[ice  the  Spanish 
a  palace.  It  is 
nor's  Residence, 
jovernor  of  the 

old  city  excites 
's  than  does  this 

lire,  with  very 
li't  by  the  Span- 
cen   erected   by 


•     t 


Count  Penaloza,  chief  executive  of  the  province, 
about  1662.  Around  it  cluster  volumes  of  histor- 
ical associations.  One  of  its  distinctions  is  the  great 
number  of  titled  people  which  have  been  entertained 
within  it,  in  royal  state.  Considering  its  location, 
in  the  heart  of  a  great  country,  and  the  fact  that 
from  no  direction  could  it  be  reached,  except  by 
traversing  arid  stretches  of  vast  extent,  or  by  cross- 
ing mountains  rugged  and  bold,  this  feature  is  all 
the  more  noteworthy.  Among  its  guests  have  been 
envoys  of  the  kings  of  Spain,  Mexican  officials,  and 
distinguished  citizens  of  the  United  States. 

Penaloza,  so  runs  the  history,  possessed  not  only 
a  decided  taste  for  building  cities  and  fine  edifices, 
but  also  great  tact  for  quelling  Indian  outbreaks. 
At  the  same  time,  he  was  not  the  man  to  meekly 
execute  all  the  decrees  of  the  home  government. 
It  is  related  that  on  one  occasion  he  laid  hold  of  a 
Spanish  commissary-general  and  confined  him  in  the 
palace  for  a  week,  in  the  hope  that  quietude  and 
time  for  reflection  might  teach  him  official  modera- 
tion.    How  he  succeeded  is  not  stated. 

Modern  writers  have  worked  away  at  the  ancient 
Church  of  San  Miguel,  until  most  readers  know  all 
about  it.  The  principal  facts  concerning  the  struc- 
ture, besides  the  history  wrapped  up  in  it,  are  the 
following:  It  is  believed  to  be  the  oldest  church 
edifice  in  the  United  States.  Like  scores  of  similar 
buildings   in   Arizona,  Old  Mexico,  and  California, 


.fif-^l"^ 


If    i 


!i 


30 


NEW  MEX[L(}. 


it  was  made  of  adobe,  with  walls  immensely  thick. 
Its  exterior  is  prison-like.  In  the  general  Pueblo 
emeute  of  1680  it  suffered  partial  destruction,  but 
was  restored  thirty  years  later. 

Near  it  stands  a  low  adobe  structure,  two  stories 
in  height,  "  known  to  antedate  every  other  house  in 
our  land,"  it  being  the  only  remains  of  the  ancient 
Pueblo  village,  or  capital,  of  Analco,  which,  at 
Espejo's  advent,  oc(uipied  the  present  site  of 
Santa  Fe. 

In  the  early  years  of  this  century  there  flour- 
ished, at  times,  in  Santa  Fe  such  notable  Rocky 
Mountain  men  as  Kit  Carson  and  Captain  Zebulon 
Pike,  whose  name  is  perpetuated  by  that  peerless 
summit,  Pike's  Peak,  and  who  once  languished,  for 
some  little  time,  a  prisoner  in  the  famous  "  palace." 
Added  to  these  were  Jedediah  Smith,  the  two  Sou- 
blette  brothers,  the  Messrs.  Fitzpatrick  and  Bridger, 
besides  a  score  of  less  eminent  but  not  less  fearless 
traders,  trappers,  and  adventurers,  who,  in  spite  of 
great  obstacles  and  extreme  reverses,  built  up  a  rich 
commerce  with  Northern  Mexico. 

The  resources  of  New  Mexico  may  be  grouped 
under  the  heads  of  grazing,  mining,  agriculture,  as 
yet  carried  on  to  an  extent  much  below  the  possi- 
bilities, horticulture,  in  which  encouraging  begin- 
nings have  been  made,  and  endless  openings  for 
manufactures.      Immense    herds   of   cattle,    sheep, 


OLD  TIMES  AND  PRESENT  RESOURCES.      31 


elv  thick, 
al  Pueblo 
ction,  but 

iwo  stories 
r  house  in 
he  ancient 
which,  at 
t    site    of 

here  flour- 
ible  Rocky 
in  Zebulon 
lat  peerless 
ruished,  for 
s  "  palace." 
,e  two  Sou- 
nd Bridgcr, 
ess  fearless 
in  spite  of 
It  up  a  rich 


be  grouped 
riculture,  as 
w  the  possi- 
ging  bcgin- 
^pcnings  for 
ittlc,    sheep, 


goats,  and  horses  range  over  its  boundless  pasture 
tracts.  A  glimpse  of  these  herds  is  sometimes  ob- 
tained by  the  traveler  as  he  flits  through  the  Terri- 
tory on  th<;  cars.  Millions  of  acres  are  given  up  to 
this  purpose. 

In  the  mountains  of  New  Mexico  lie  buried  in 
vast  quantities,  gold,  silver,  copper,  coal,  mica,  and 
numerous  other  metals.  Santa  Fe  County,  embrac- 
ing the  celebrated  Cerrillos  anthracite  fields,  twenty 
thousand  acres  in  extent,  together  with  the  Callisteo 
bituminous  banks,  of  equal  size,  and  those  of  Socorro 
County,  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Rio  Grande, 
represent  the   wealth  of  a   kingdom  in  fuel  alone. 

Donna  Ana  County,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
long,  one  hundred  miles  wide,  lying  on  the  border 
of  Old  Mexico  and  well  watered  by  the  Rio 
Grande,  excels  in  semi-tropical  fruit  products. 
Every  thing  may  be  grown  there,  from  apples  to 
strawberries,  grown  in  abundance  and  to  perfection. 
Onion  culture  is  also  a  prominent  industry  of  the 
district.  The  variety  raised  is  a  native  of  Old 
Mexico,  and  has  a  great  reputation  for  size  and  fine 
flavor.  In  these  particulars  it  surpasses  the  favorite 
Bermuda  onion.  One  cultivator  of  the  fragrant  (r; 
edible,  says:  "An  acre  of  ground  will  produce 
thirty  thousand  onions,  averaging  one  pound  in 
weight,  and  with  skillful  husbandry  even  fifty  thou- 
sand pounds  may  be  obtained  from  the  same  space. 
Tiie  crop  may  be  marketed  on  the  ground  at  three 


i' 


1  :! 


I'! 


32 


NEW  MEXICO. 


cents  per  pouncl,  and  will  require  the  steady  labor 
of  one  man  six  months  of  the  year. 

A  conspicuous  resource  of  this  county  is  its 
gypsum  plains,  forty  miles  long  by  thirty  miles 
wide.  The  mineral  exists  in  the  form  of  powder, 
and  in  some  localities  is  "piled  in  drifts,  from 
twenty  to  fifty  feet  in  height."  From  a  distance,  it 
is  said,  these  ridges  resemble  banks  of  snow.  Its 
special  value  lies  in  its  being  a  fine  fertilizer  for 
wheat. 

Four  great  rivers,  with  many  lesser  streams, 
water  the  Territory  of  New  Mexico.  The  Rio 
Grande  and  the  Rio  Picos  flow  through  its  entire 
length,  from  north  to  south,  and  find  their  outlet 
in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  latter  is  the  more 
eastern  stream,  and  refreshes  Lincoln  County,  an 
immense  area,  embracing  about  one-fifth  of  the 
Territory. 

Rio  Arriba  County  is  another  mammoth  section. 
Its  altitude  above  sea-level  averages  seven  thousand 
feet.  Its  length  is  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  its 
width  ninety  miles.  Through  it  flows  the  river 
San  Juan,  a  strong  affluent  of  the  Colorado,  and 
having  many  large  branches  of  its  own. 

Turning  now  to  the  north-eastern  corner  of  the 
Territory,  we  behold  rolling  into  populous  San 
Miguel  County,  from  Texas,  the  Canadian  River, 
an  important  arm  of  the  Arkansas.  With  its  own 
multiplied  tributaries  it  nourishes  a  fine  series  of 


liiii 


OLD  TIMES  AND  PRESENT  RESOURCES.       33 


'ady  labor 

nty  is  its 
irty  miles 
)f  powder, 
•ifts,  from 
distance,  it 
?now.  Its 
rtilizer  for 

ir  streams. 
The  Rio 
,  its  entire 
heir  outlet 
the  more 
bounty,  an 
"th  of  the 

th  section. 
1  thousand 
T  miles,  its 
the  river 
jrado,  and 

*ner  of  the 
ulcus  San 
ian  Rivor, 
th  its  own 
series  of 


fertile  valhjys.  In  this  section  the  hills  and  mount- 
ain slopes  bristle  with  forests  of  pine  and  cedar. 
On  the  streams  are  numerous  saw-mills,  busy  cut- 
ting this  timber  into  lumber,  thus  adding  anothoi 
to  the  resources  of  New  Mexico. 


*~"'r'  ,  I 'jwix. 


r 


I 


:  |i 


©HE  ^HUI^GH    AND    SGHOOL-F^OUSB   AI^B 
THE    l^IONBBl^S. 


BEFORE  resuming  the  thread  of  my  story,  after 
this  long  digression,-!  wish  to  make  one  or  two 
remarks  on  the  subject  of  general  education  in  this 
and  other  south-western  parts  of  our  country,  and 
to  make  them  in  connection  with  Wallace,  the  ter- 
minus of  a  division  of  the  Atchison,  Topeka,  and 
Santa  Fe  Railway,  where  are  located  the  company's 
shops,  round-house,  and  the  like.  Wallace  is  a 
point  of  interest,  also,  on  account  of  the  liberal 
provision  it  has  made  for  the  education  and  relig- 
ions cul'iur-^  of  its  people,  and  in  these  respects  it 
is  a  typic;u  Western  town.  It  is  not  unusual  in 
these  u)  vns  to  find  the  church  and  school-house 
going  up  simultaneously  with  the  dwellings.  In- 
deed, in  my  jourueyings  I  have  seen  a  town-site  on 
which  a  church,  a  school-house,  and  a  hotel  were 
among  the  first  buildings  erected,  and  the  men 
laying  out  the  place  were  of  the  shrewdest,  most 
far-seeing  class.  Another  })reliminary  step  was  the 
gr.**  jing  of  the  principal    streets   and  the  laying  of 

durable  pavements.     Then  followed  electric  lights, 
31 


ll*iL. 


THE  OLD  HAJ^TA  FE  TRAIL. 


36 


)USE  AI^B 


and   the   next   thing   was  a  railway  train  tliunder- 
ing  in. 

It  lias  been  reserved  for  the  West,  the  uudelined 
bnt   prodigious    West,  to  reverse  the  order  of  pro- 


^  story,  after 
e  one  or  two 
nation  in  this 
country,  and 
lace,  the  ter- 
Topeka,  and 
le  company's 
Vallace    is   a 
the   liberal 
n  and    relig- 
e   respects  it 
t  unusual  in 
school-house 
ellings.     In- 
town-site  on 
a    hotel   were 
nd    the    men 
•ewdest,  most 
step  was  the 
lie  laying  of 
(■(•trie  lights, 


One  oi  the  Pionei3i*8 

ceedings  in  founding  towns  and  cities.  The  old 
plan  was  for  a  number  of  families  to  appear,  one 
by  one,  on  the  scene,  erect  their  habitations  and  get 
settled  at  their  various  pursuits.  Then  tardily  fol- 
lowed  the    church    edifices  and   the  institutions  of 


!U 


r    fftf^ 


It    i 


li! 


'lit      hjj 


■: 


1 1. ■Ill 


36 


NEW  MEXICO. 


learning.  Now  the  latter  are  the  pioneers.  They 
move  on,  in  advanee  of  the  people,  take  possession 
of  the  ground,  anil  are  ready  to  begin  work  when 
the  men  and  women,  the  boys  and  girls,  come  up. 

Now  returning  to  our  journey:  "We  were  some 
three  hours  beyond  Albuquerque,  when,  halting  at 
a  station  in  the  desert,  our  car  was  invaded  by  a 
band  of  Pueblo  women  carrying  baskets  of  "|)in- 
ions,"  a  small  nut  gathered  on  the  neighboring 
mountains,  and  which  resembled  a  variety  of  brown 
bean  I  have  frequently  seen  in  Ohio.  The  fruit 
was  sweet  and  j>leasant  to  the  taste,  and  was  offered 
us  at  five  cents  the  tumbler  full.  These  little  women 
were  a  lively  company,  and  flitted  to  and  fro  iu  the 
car,  disposing  of  their  nuts  in  a  very  brisk,  business- 
like manner.  They  were  clad  in  indescribable  attire, 
and  evidently  in  expectation  of  seeing  sti'angers. 
Each  woman  wore  upon  her  head  about  the  follow- 
ing articles:  A  square  piece  of  colored  cloth,  a  gay 
handkerchief,  and  a  sun-bonnet  tied  with  cord  and 
tassels.  The  remaiudei  of  the  costume  was  simi- 
larly varied,  both  as  to  garments  and  color.  There 
could  be  little  question  but  that  each  one  had 
donned  her  entire  wardrobe  f^)r  the  occasion.  With 
their  coal-black  eyes,  alert  ways,  and  pleasant  ex- 
pression ot  countenance,  fhey  were  agreeable 
women,  notwithstanding  their  swarthy  .skin,  short 
stature,  and  stout  bodies. 


i  I  '^1! 


if 


ALBUQUERQUE. 


37 


•s.  Tliey 
possession 
irk  when 
ime  up. 

i'ere  some 
laltlng  at 
clod  by  a 
of  "  \)'\n- 
iglihoring 
of  brown 
The  fruit 
as  offered 
le  women 
fro  in  the 
business- 
ble  attire, 
strangers, 
le  follow- 
•th,  a  gay 
cord  and 
vas  siiui- 
There 
one    had 
With 
isant  ex- 
agi'eeable 
in,  short 


THE  OLD  SANTA  FE  TRAIL. 

Not  far  to  the  east  of  us  now,  through  many 
miles  of  the  treeless  desert,  lay  the  celebrated  Santa 
Fe  Trail,  formerly  pursued  by  emigrants  on  their 
way  to  the  great  El  Dorado  of  the  "West. 

"  For  a  distance  of  ninety  miles  through  New  Mex- 
ico," said  a  gentleman  familiar  with  the  Territory, 
"this  route  crossed  not  a  single  strerm  of  running 
water;  and  to  this  part  of  it  was  given  the  name 
of  'Valley  of  Death.'  And  such,  indeed,  it  was. 
Great  numbers  of  men  and  animals  fell  victims  to 
thirst  upon  jts  suff()cating  sands." 

Here  and  there  the  precise  locality  of  the  trail 
was  pointed  out  to  us,  as  we  sped  down  the  deso- 
late expanse. 

Many  of  the  small  hamlets  which  have  sprung 
up  because  the  railroad  is  here,  are  as  quiet 
and  dreamy  as  ihc  desert  itself.  No  business 
is  tr:)asa;3ting.  No  hum  of  manufacturing  is 
heard.  No  teams  are  at  work.  Not  a  woman 
is  seen  abroad  in  the  streets.  No  child  voices 
ring  out  through  the  heated  air.  And  yet  this 
'  is  sunny  New  Mexico,  a  land  which  many  people 
who  have  not  traversed  it,  suppose  to  be  clothed 
with  verdure,  radiant  with  flowers,  and  teeming 
with  inh:d)itants. 

It  was  a  relief,  under  tho  "ircumbtances,  to  have 

tiie  long,  bright  day  wear  away,  and  to  see  the  sun 

4 


I 


../' 


I 


I 


I* 

I'     I 


■  J;  I 


I'-m 


liVilir 


38 


NEW  MEXICO. 


go  down.  Suddenly,  thereupon,  fully  one-quarter 
of  the  great  arch  overhead  turned  to  a  brilliant 
gold  color.  Half-way  up  to  the  zenith  this,  soft- 
ened into  a  faint  pink,  while  at  the  horizon  it 
deepened  to  a  rich  orange.  Soon  after,  in  the 
midst  of  the  gold,  appeared  the  fair  evenin;-  star, 
its  soft,  silvery  beams  contrasting  stri':ii,^'ly  '**h 
the  glory  around.  Slowly,  then,  night  di'up^>e(l  iier 
curtains,  now  concealing  this  range  of  mountains, 
and  now  that.  It  was  nine  o'clock.  We  were  in 
Deming,  the  south-western  terinfinus  of  the  Atchison 
and  Topeka  road. 

The  only  hotel  was  crowded  with  guests,  wait- 
ing for  a  delayed  train  on  the  Southern  road.  Not 
a  room  remained  for  the  passengers  from  the  ISorth. 
Happily,  between  the  proprietor  and  a  housekeeper 
across  the  plaza  there  existed  a  silent  partnership 
in  the  hotel  business,  which  was  made  apparent 
on  such  occasions.  To  her  house,  accordingly,  were 
we  marched,  an  inhospitable  wind  chilling  us  to 
our  very  bones.  Arrived  at  the  place,  we  were 
conducted  up  an  outside  staircase  to  our  rooms,  in 
none  of  which  was  sign  of  fire,  beyond  a  warm 
stove-pipe,  which  passed  through  one  of  them  from 
below.  This  was  kindly  assigned  to  the  sufferer  "mi 
my  care,  and  in  a  short  time  weariness  and  destn 
solitudes  were  forgotten  in  sound  sleep. 


|i'i 


[le-qnarter 
a  brilliant 
this,  soft- 
horizon   it 
jr,  in    the 
)unvf  star, 
i.-gly    V»k 
copped  iier 
mountains, 
r^e  were  in 
le  Atchison 

nests,  wait- 
roafl.     Not 
the  North, 
lousekeeper 
partnership 
le    apparent 
|lingly,  were 
lling   us   to 
le,  we  were 
ir  rooms,  in 
ind  a  warm 
r  them  from 
|e  sufferer  in 
and  deseri 


VI. 


INGIDBMIPS    OP   THE    SECOND    ^OUF^NBY. 


NEARLY  three  years  after  that  night  I  again 
passed  over  this  section  of  New  Mexico,  and 
if  the  reader  will  pordon,  I  will  insert  here,  be- 
fore we  move  westward  from  Deming,  one  or  two 
episodes  of  that  trip. 

Under  my  care,  by  her  own  request,  was  an  aged 
German  woman,  for  long  years  a  resident  of  San 
Francisco.  So  singular  a  character  was  she,  such  a 
compound  of  smartness  and  utter  inability,  so  un- 
attractive in  appearance,  and  yet  so  wiiming  withal, 
that  I  presume  to  photograph  her  on  these  pages. 

Upon  entering  the  Pullman  car  at  Los  Angeles, 
I  found  her  domiciled  for  the  trip,  and  conversing 
with  a  couple  of  genteel-looking  friends.  The 
berth  I  had  secured  hoppened  to  be  opposite  her 
own.  Presently  her  friends  bade  her  "good-bye," 
and  we  were  alone.  Then  turning  to  me  she  re- 
marked : 

"May  be  you  are  going  where  I  am?" 

"Possibly.     I  am  going  to  Ohio." 

"  Is  that  east  of  Mcdora,  Kansas?" 

"  Yes,  a  long  distance." 

30 


»*l 


..■ffl 


1  ^ 

I 


:| 


1      I 


il      I 


:iili 


I'll 


i 


. 


4!. ; 


1    .1 


40  NEW  MEXICO. 

"  May  be,  then,  you  Ml  look  after  me.  I  Ve 
never  been  over  this  road  before.  I  live  in  San 
Francisco — thirty  years  now  in  that  wonderful 
city." 

"  I  will,  certainly,  do  all  I  can  for  you." 

Then  she  proceeded  to  epitomise  her  austere 
History,  by  saying  that  she  had  been  a  hard  worker 
all  her  days;  had  made  and  lost  two  or  threfr  am- 
ple fortunes;  had  buried  her  husband  two  years 
before;  had  been  left  childless,  and  now,  tired  of  a 
silent  home  and  a  desolate  life,  she  had  started  for 
Medora,  Kansas,  "  expressly  to  take  back  with  her 
a  favorite  niece  and  her  family,  to  brighten  the 
house." 

"Should  they  prove  kind  to  her,"  she  went  on, 
"  and  not  be  too  stuck  up,  the  step  shoidd  be  the 
making  of  them.  But  should  they  forget  the  re- 
spect due  her,  they'd  just  have  to  pack  up  and  git. 
And.  in  that  event,  she  should  just  take  up  the 
dead  body  of  her  husband  and  git  to  Europe. 
Germany  was  a  better  place,  anyhow,  than  this 
wretched,  sandy  country." 

Hundreds  of  miles  before  reaching  Deming,  she 
became  disgusted  with  the  route,  and  "just  wished 
she  'd  gone  by  the  Union  Pacific.  That  was  a 
wonderful  route,  through  magnificent  scenery.  But 
on  this  Southern  Pacific  road  she  'd  seen  nothing 
but  sand,  mountains,  and  twisted  cacti  for  nearly 
thirteen  hundred  miles;    and,  what  was  worse  yet, 


'. ;  ji: 

■i  I  ill 


INCIDENTS  OF  THE  SECOND  JOURNEY.       41 


Tie.      I  've 

ive  in  Sun 

wonderful 

ou." 

ler  austere 
urd  worker 
r  threrr  am- 

two  years 
;,  tired  of  a 

started  for 
-k  with  her 
)righten  the 

;he  went  on, 
ould  be  the 
rgct  the  re- 
ap and  git. 
ake  up  the 
to  Europe. 
.    than    this 

)eniing,  she 

Must  wished 

'hat   was   a 

fcenery.    But 

pen    notliiiig 

for  nearly 

worse  yet, 


the  attendant  lu  the  car  assured  her  there 
were  twelve  hundred  miles  more  of  the 
same  thing  before  she  would  see  Medora." 
Thus  tlu!  good  woman   vented  her  dis- 
content upon  the  innocent  country. 
It  was  a  singular  aspect  of  her 
case  that,  untidy  as  was  her  appear- 
ance, coarse  as  were   her  manners 
and  features,  she  yet  managed  to  in- 
terest in  her  behalf  every  traveler 
who  hajipened  to  take  a  seat  near 
her.     On  leaving  the  car,  men  and 
women  would  shake  hands  with  her 


;J  ,1 

"'<■;  if 


A  Groiip  ai  Caoti. 


Il 


'I!  !! 


':i 


I     !• 

'       ,11' 
II 


li: 


S.lll:^ 


i'l 


,!■  I 

i"  ■ 

■  '.A 

|i||l 
I  j  111 


42 


NEW  MEXICO. 


warmly,  wishing  her  ii  saie  arrival  at  *' Medora," 
and  success  with  the  niece  and  her  family.  To  the 
through  passengers  this  proceeding  became  rather 
amusing  toward  the  last.  At  the  same  time  it  dis- 
closed a  beautiful  side  of  our  human  nature. 

An  important  part  of  the  woman's  luggage  con- 
sisted of  a  capacious  portmanteau,  crowded  with 
such  fragrant  provisions  as  pickles,  cheese,  ham, 
doughnuts,  and  bologna  sausage.  From  cither  one 
of  these  the  odor  could  have  been  endured  ;  but 
when  all  had  been  combired  and  confined  for  sev- 
eral hours,  they  had  the  effect  to  set  her  near 
neighbors  to  devising  an  emigration  scheme  the 
moment  the  receptacle  was  opened.  From  this  sup- 
ply, with  the  addition  of  a  cup  of  coffee,  procured 
for  her  at  the  meal  stations,  she  refreshed  herself 
three  times  each  day.  Though  twice  and  a  half  my 
weight,  she  seemed  to  regard  me  as  a  being  who 
could  avert  from  her  all  the  evils  of  the  way,  and, 
indeed,  but  for  ray  oversight  on  leaving  Deming, 
the  poor  woman  would  have  been  doomed  to  spend 
twenty-four  hours  more  in  that  "  horrid  sandy 
country." 

At  half-past  nine  in  the  morning  we  were  lo- 
cated in  the  cool,  wicker-seated  coaches,  ready  for 
the  flight  northward.  Toward  noon  we  came  in 
sight  of  the  green  fringe  of  the  Rio  Grande.  Cross- 
ing this  stream  we  soon  drew  up  at  Rincon,  a  place 
consisting  of  the  station-house  and  a  very  comfort- 


ISCIDENTS  OF  THE  SECOND  JOURNEY.        43 


*^.r: 


''  Medora," 
y.  To  the 
time  rather 
time  it  dis- 
til re. 

iggage  con- 
iwded  with 
:ieese,  ham, 
n  cither  one 
id n red  ;  but 
ed  for  sev- 
t    her    near 
scheme    the 
3m  this  sup- 
pe,  procured 
led  herself 
a  half  my 
heing  who 
way,  and, 
g  Deming, 
0(1  to  spend 
>rrid    sandy 

ve  were  lo- 
,  ready  for 
we  came  in 
de.  Cross- 
con,  a  place 
ry  comfort- 


able hotel.  Both  are  shoved  up  into  a  narrow 
canon,  in  order  to  escape  overflows  of  the  great 
river.  Here,  during  a  three  hours'  waiting  for  the 
northward-bound  train  from  El  Paso,  we  witnessed 
a  striking  display  of  the  mental  resources  of  the 
Mexican  in  times  of  emergency,  and  also  of  his 
capacity  to  sympathize  with  others  in  condition  of 
suifering. 

Soon  after  our  arrival  one  of  their  race  at- 
tempted, when  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  to  leap 
upon  an  incoming  local  train.  One  of  the  brake- 
men,  perceiving  the  man's  danger,  pushed  him 
away  vigorously.  Enraged  by  this  act,  the  crazed 
fellow  repeated  the  effort,  missed  his  hold,  fell  be- 
neath the  car,  and  was  taken  up  with  one  foot 
severely  crushed.     He  became  sober  instantly. 

Lying  about  on  blankets,  bedding,  and  bundles 
of  apparel  in  the  broad  covered  passage-way  be- 
tween the  two  trains,  were  a  score  of  his  country- 
men, unmoved  by  the  accident  and  indifferent  to 
the  victim's  pain.  There  beUig  no  physician  within 
miiRS  of  the  place,  the  wounded  man  was  laid  on 
the  floor  of  this  passage,  without  sign  of  pillow, 
and  freely  dosed  with  whisky,  while  upon  the  man- 
gled foot  was  poured  a  stream  of  cold  water.  Mean- 
while, did  he  attempt  to  turn  his  head,  to  move  an 
arm,  or  toss  about  in  his  agony,  his  two  companions 
held  him  as  rigid  as  a  statue,  regardless  of  his 
woeful  cry  of  "  Let  me  alone." 


I 

m 


[f 


\ 


I ! 


I! 


I    !t 


'\m\ 


I  r 


44 


NEW  MEXICO. 


Distressed  by  all  this,  several  gentlemen,  leaving 
the  cars,  urged  gentler  treatment  and  the  pressing 
need  of  a  surgeon.  But  the  brown-visaged  men 
replied  only  by  a  shake  of  the  head,  and  a  few 
words  uttered  in  the  Spanish  tongue.  The  adminis- 
tration of  whisky  and  water  continued  during  the 
three  hours  of  our  stay,  and  when  we  moved  off 
northward  the  suiferer  still  lay  on  the  floor,  his  foot 
bleeding  but  himself  quiet  and  unconscious  of  pain, 
because  dead  drunk. 

Shortly  before  four  o'clock  of  the  fifth  day  after 
our  departure  from  Los  Angeles,  the  polite  con- 
ductor of  the  train  entered  our  car,  stepped  to  the 
seat  occupied  by  ray  German  friend,  and  said,  smil- 
ingly, "  The  next  station  is  Medora,"  and  then 
passed  on.  How  the  good  woman's  hands  trembled 
then  as  she  tied  her  bonnet  strings,  clasped  her  reti- 
cule, and  gave  the  half-dozen  pieces  of  her  luggage 
a  quick  little  shove  together  to  have  them  ready  for 
a  prompt  departure !  Stepping  to  her  side  I  said  : 
"Do  not  worry;  I  will  help  you  off  the  train." 

Then  she  calmed  herself  s(»ine  and  wa'ted,  and 
finally,  gratef'ii  for  her  cordial  invitation  to  visit 
her  the  ne  :t  time  I  should  be  in  "that  wonderful 
city,  Sap  Prancisco,"  I  bade  her  "  good-bye  "  in  the 
long-locked-for  Medora,  and  continued  my  flight 
toward  the  Buckeye  State, 


I    WjliiiiiL__ 


nen,  leaving 
ihe  pressing 
/isaged  men 

and  a  few 
rVie  admim's- 

during  the 
J  moved  off 
loor,  his  foot 
lious  of  pain, 


Ifth  day  after 
3  polite  con- 
epped  to  the 
id  said,  smil- 
,"    and    then 
nds  trembled 
;ped  her  reti- 
her  luggage 
om  ready  for 
side  I  said  : 
e  train." 

wa'tcd,  and 
ition  to  visit 
at  wonderful 
bye"  in  the 
id   ray  flight 


if;u 


4 


VIT. 

Fl^OM    DBMING    mo  ©UGSON. 


NOW  let  us  return  to  Doming.  The  render  will 
remember  we  entered  the  place  at  nine  o'eloek 
in  the  evening.  The  next  morning,  which  dawned 
cold  and  gray,  revealed  a  small  villnge  of  possibly 
sixteen  hundred  inhabitants.  In  the  distance,  on 
every  hand,  rose  mountains  blue  and  stately.  Most 
of  the  buildings  were  of  wood,  one  story  in  height, 
and  erected,  evidently,  to  serve  only  until  better 
structures  should  take  their  place.  The  commodious 
hotel,  hemmed  in  on  three  sides  by  railroads,  was 
new  and  well  managed.  Its  bill  of  fare  was  sur- 
prisingly ample,  and  the  cooking  excellent,  for  a 
table  spread  in  the  heart  of  a  desert. 

Some  towns  seem  to  have  been  foreordained  to 
become  eminent.  Reputation  attaches  to  them  inde- 
pendently of  size  or  age.  Location  alone  secures  it 
to  them.  This  ?s  Deming's  prime  advantage.  The 
village  stands  in  tiie  path  of  the  ever-increasing 
tide  of  travel  from  the  vast  "East"  to  our  south- 
western coast.  Through  it  pass,  also,  from  the 
Pacific  Slope  thousands  of  pooplt!  ticketed  to  Texas 

and   the   Gulf  States,  while   multitudes  branch  off 

5  4r> 


'€'. 


m 


'r 


r^ 


rm 


l> 


i  ! 


ii:!!!i|!:Ih 


iilili;!!;: 


la 


!iPl 


\\vm 


Ililiiii'ii  I 


40 


ARIZONA. 


hero   for   all   points  cast  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
Hence  the  little  town  is  known  fiir  and  near. 

Deming  is  located  about  forty  miles  north  of  the 
border  of  Old  Mexico,  and  is  a  distributing  point 
for  a  large  region  of  country.     Its   altitude  above 


Salix  Babylonioa— "  Weiping  Willow-  ' 
sea-level  is  four  thousand  two  hundred  feet.  Un- 
derneath the  place,  some  fifty  feci  below  the  surface, 
lies  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  excellent  water. 
This  advantage  the  citizens  naturally  set  forth  with 
some  eloquence,  situated  as  they  are,  on  a  great 
desert  unrefreshed  by  running  streams.  Like  mill- 
ions of  acres  of   this   Southland,  the  region  needs 


If! 


FROM  DEMING  TO  TUCSON. 


47 


Mountains. 

5ar. 

lorth  of  the 
uting  point 
itude  above 


ted  feet.     Un- 
nv  the  surface, 
Icellent    water, 
set  forth  with 
l-e,  on   a   great 
Like  niiH- 
regiou  needs 


water  only  to  render  it  niarvelously  productive,  they 
tell   us.     The   general   cultivation  of  the  soil  here 
however,  is  much  a  question  of  the  future.     Many 
of  the  mountains  around  are  vast  store-houses  for 
valuable  metals  and  minerals. 

Deming  calls  itself  the  half-way  station  between 
Kansas  City  and  San  Francisco,  being  twelve  hun- 
dred miles  from  the  former,  and  nearly  thirteen 
hundred  from  the  latter.  The  Southern  Pacific 
Railway  connects  the  place  with  both  the  Pacific 
and  Gulf  coasts.  It  is  likewise  the  southern  ter- 
minus for  the  narrow-gauge  road  now  finished  to 
Silver  City,  situated  in  a  rich  mineral  region.  Pro- 
ceeding westward  as  far  as  Benson,  an  important 
mining  town  of  Arizona,  Deming  has  an  outlet  via 
the  Sonora  Railway  to  the  port  of  Guaymas,  on  the 
Gulf  of  California. 

At  half-past  ten  we  again  pushed  out  into  the 

sand,  with  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles  between 
us  and  Tucson,  Arizona.  All  day  long  we  ro^^^-d 
over  the  wild  waste,  our  relation  to  the  mou.>ra;u 
chains  on  either  hand,  changing  every  hour.  The 
vegetation  of  the  desert  proved  an  interesting  study. 
At  one  little  station  I  observed,  to  my  surprise, 
the  Salix  Babylonica  growing  in  a  hot  depression, 
where  one  would  suppose  no  green  thing  could 
live.  I  noticed,  also,  in  addition  to  several  strange 
varieties,  frequent  large  patches  of  the  cactus  com- 
monly called  "  prickly  pear,"  or  the  cactus  opuntia. 


id 

c 


i 


H' 


I  !,illi), 


.I'M  'I 


.  |l 


'i    ■   ' 

'    I, 


I    If! 


Hi; 


! 


4  ''..itiU'i.!' 
I  iilhlil 


ill        ■  ;i     ,  , 

:il!|!M|j!M' 


48 


ARIZONA. 


Here  the  plant  was  dwarfed  in  size  and         leaves 
grew  close  to  the  ground. 

But  afterwards,  in  the  city  of  Los  Angeles,  I 
saw  it  attain  a  height  of  fifteen  or  eighteen  feet. 
The  trunk  was  bare  of  limbs  to  a  height  of  eig)  t 


ri;-*.U3  3-^.untia— "  Pri3kly  Fear." 

or  ten  feet,  while  the  top  of  ungainly,  distorted 
branches  spread  out  in  all  directions.  The  last 
time  I  passed  this  cactus  tree,  the  edge  of  each 
pulpy  leaf  had  burst  out  into  a  circlet  of  yellowish- 
red  blossoms,  making  it  a  conspicuous  object  in 
the  neighborhood.     The  fruit  of  this  species  is  not 


FROM  DEMING  TO  TUCSOX. 


49 


leaves 


Angeles,  I 
ghteen  feet, 
ght  of  eig)  t 


ily,  distorted 
The  last 
edge  of  each 
of  yellowish- 
)iis  object  in 
species  is  not 


4 


onlv  edible,  but  pahituble,  niul  being  round  at  both 
ends,  reminds  one  of  the  short,  sniooth  variety  of 
cueuini)er,  thougli  the  color  is  a  lighter  green. 

When  crossing  this  desert  the  second  time,  I 
was  favored  with  a  sight  of  that  strange  optical 
illusion,  the  mirage.  Happening  to  glance  out  of 
the  car-window,  in  the  direction  of  the  south-west, 
about  four  o'clock  in  the  iifternoon,  lo !  there  ap- 
peared a  broad,  placid  river  flawing  through  the 
sand.  Inverted  in  its  depths  we  could  plainly  see 
the  summits  of  the  nearest  mountains,  and  also  the 
tops  of  the  tallest  shrubs  close  at  hand.  At  one 
point  the  .stream  appeared  to  divide,  and  encircle 
the  base  of  a  stately  butte  standing  far  away,  thus 
forming  an  inverted  conical  island. 

"Why!  is  that  a  river?"  inquired  a  passenger, 
springing  to  her  feet,  and  trying  to  obtain  a  clearer 
view  of  the  scene. 

**No,  madam,"  answered  the  conductor,  just 
then  passing  through  the  car.  "  There  is  no  water 
within  two  hundred  miles  of  here." 

But  again  we  have  digressed.  It  is  not  easy  to 
combine  in  one  account  the  observations  of  opposite 
trips  through  a  land  like  this.  On  we  fly,  past  acres 
of  cacti  and  chaparral,  towards  the  quaint  old  city  of 
Tucson.  Once  more  it  is  night.  The  sun  sinks  be- 
hind the  low  indigo  hills,  rimming  the  horizon  in  the 
west.  The  heavens  are  glorious  half-way  to  the 
zenith.     Tiie  stars  glitter   in   the  azure  sky.     The 


i 


§:' 


m 


i  ; 


I 


!       'r  I 


!'^i:it: 


50 


ARIZONA. 


air  grows  cold,  making  necessary  the  fire  glowing 
in  the  huge  stove.  Now  a  passenger  steps  to  the 
door,  looks  out  ahead,  returns,  shrugs  his  shoulders, 
and  announces,  "Tucson  is  in  sight." 

Presently  the  train  halted  in  front  of  an  excel- 
lent hotel,  kept  by  a  family  named  Porter,  whom 
the  writer  has  occasion  long  to  remember,  for  kind- 
nesses shown  her.  Delivering  up  the  checks  for 
our  luggage,  we  stepped  into  an  omnibus  and  drove 
into  the  queer  old  town  for  a  ten  days'  sojourn  and 
rest.  Some  little  opportunity  occurred  during  our 
stay,  to  acquaint  myself  with  Arizona  and  its  an- 
cient capital  Certain  general  facts  gained,  appear 
in  the  following  chapter. 


5  glowing 
ips  to  the 
shoulders, 


'  an  excel- 
•ter,  whom 
■^  for  kind- 
checks   for 
1  and  drove 
iojourn  and 
during  our 
and  its  an- 
ned,  appear 


m 


viii. 

pF^IZOMA. 


ARIZONA,  once  a  part  of  New  Mexico,  em- 
braces a  territory  of  sixteen  thousand  square 
miles.  Superficially  it  consists  of  deserts,  plateaus, 
valleys,  and  mountains.  Chains  of  the  latter  trav- 
erse it  in  almost  every  direction,  with  much  rich, 
productive  land  intervening.  The  southern  portion 
is  an  extensive  plain,  but  slightly  elevated  above  the 
sea.  Other  parts  attain  altitudes  of  from  six  to  nine 
thousand  feet.  The  splendid  cone  of  Saint  Francis 
towers  to  a  distance  of  eleven  thousand  feet.  The 
Rio  Colorado  is  the  most  notable  stream  of  the 
Territory,  and  forms  a  considerable  part  of  its 
western  boundary.  Next  in  importance  is  th>  jila. 
Having  its  source  in  New  Mexico,  it  flows  ei  tirely 
across  the  southern  portion  of  Arizona,  and  joins  the 
Colorado  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  miles  north 
of  the  Gulf  of  California.  Narrow,  swift,  and  shal- 
low most  of  the  year,  it  swells  to  a  mighty  torrent 


di 


th 


uunna;  the  raniv  season. 


iJ 


19 


61 


--iTiTirrw 


?^ 


"•  'I 


h^ 


!!!  1| 

ii'    Hi 


!  I 


li 


il 


52 


ARIZONA. 


The  valley  of*  the  (Jila  ;>j)poars  to  liavo  been  iho 
seat,  not  only  of  a  laige  Spanish  colonization,  but 
also  of  a  (U'lisu    Indian    }?<  tion,  I'ar   anterior  4o 

the  Spanish  occupation,  i  oitions  of  it  are  dotted 
with  the  ruins  of  ancient  pueblos  and  structures  of 
solid  inasonrV;  "which  seem  to  have  remained  un- 
tenanted for  centuries."     There   exist   evidences  of 


Looomoticn  Among  the  Mexicans. 

long  irrigating  canals  and  other  eloquent  tokens  of 
a  busy,  industrial  life.  Some  archceologists  have 
conjectured  that  a  people  numbering  not  less  than 
one  hundi'ed  thousand,  dwelt  in  the  valley  of  the 
Gila,  hundreds  of  years  before  Hernando  Corte/ 
ever  saw  Mexico. 

The  lilo  Colorado  is  navigable  several  hundred 
miles  above  the  Gulf  of  (California.  At  one  i)oint, 
as  all  the  world  has  read,  its  deep,  resistless  current 
has  plowed  a  cafion,  surpassing  in  the  majesty  of 
its  scenery  even  the  famous  gorge  of  the  Columbia, 
itself  renowned  for  grand  and  awe-inspiring  sights. 


Hi 


THE  MINING  INDUSTRY. 


53 


i!\ve  bocn  i\\a 

jiiization,  but 

r   !\nli'ri(»r  -to 

it  are  dotted 

stnirtiires  of 

reiuaiiu'd  \\n- 

t   evidences  of 


uent  tokens  of 

Ideologists   bave 

not  less  ihan 

|e  valley  of  the 

iiiando   Cortez 

leveral  hundred 
At  one  point, 

I'sistless  current 

|the  majesty  of 
the  Columbia, 

Inspiring  sights. 


i 


The  writer  will  carry  in  mind  to  the  end  of  life 
some  of  the  wonders  whieh  mark  the  rent  in  the 
Cascade  Mountains,  made  by  the  mighty  CVdumbia. 
The  walls  of  that  portion  of  the  Colorado,  called 
the  Grand  Canon,  attain  a  perpendicular  height  of 
seven  thousand  feet. 

THE  INDIAN  TRIBES. 

Arizona  still  retains  a  large  Indian  population. 
The  tribes  which  live  in  general  amity  with  the 
Americans  are  the  Pimas,  Yumas,  Mojaves,  Mari- 
copas,  Papagoes,  and  some  others.  The  Apaches, 
as  the  newspapers  have  taken  some  pains  to  say, 
are  notably  fierce  and  hostile.  The  friendly  tribes 
are  more  or  less  engaged  in  farming,  stock-raising, 
and  similar  pursuits,  parts  of  the  Territory  being 
admirably  adapted  to  these  purposes. 

THE  MINING  INDUSTRY. 

With  most  other  classes  of  the  people  mining 
appears  to  be  the  leading  industry.  The  mountaius 
teem  with  valuable  metals  and  minerals.  CJold, 
silver,  and  coj)|)er  arc  the  most  })lentiful.  Then 
follows  a  long  list,  useful  in  the  arts,  and  in  a  thou- 
sand ways  helpful  to  man. 

The  subject  of  mining  certainly  forms  the  staple 
for  conversation  in  Tucson,  both  in  the  home  and 
on  the  street.     In  it  women  appear  to  be  as  deeply 


M 


m 


•.?' 


:i:i 


^Vvl 


■  1 

!>   i 


M\    M''''\ 


■I 


III 


•:  ,1  '!■ 


54 


ARIZONA. 


interested  as  men,  and  numbers  of  them  spend 
weeks  of  time  every  year  superintending  the  devel- 
opment of  mines;  Avhilo  others,  at  great  sacrifice  of 
domestic  cnjoynient,  leave  their  homes  and  reside 
in  the  rude  camps  months  in  succession,  in  order 
that  the  meriibers  of  tiieir  families  engaged  in 
"  working  claims"  may  have  the  restraints  and  at- 
tractions of  home  life  thrown  around  them. 

As  I  pen  these  lines  there  is  loading  up  in  the 
sunny  court  of  this  rambling  adobe  house,  a  rough- 
looking,  muddy-wheeled  vehicle,  in  which  a  young 
man  and  his  mother,  a  most  interesting  woman,  are 
about  to  set  out  for  a  mine  they  own,  something 
like  a  hundred  miles  from  Tucson.  Upon  this 
mine,  within  a  limited  time,  according  to  law,  must 
be  performed  a  sj)ecified  amount  of  work,  else  the 
claim  will  be  forfeited.  The  mother  and  son  are 
to  set  forth  this  morning  to  meet  this  requirement. 
They  came  into  the  city  three  days  ago,  from  min- 
ing property  belonging  to  the  family  in  another 
direction.  On  that  claim  the  husband,  mother,  and 
son  are  making  u  home,  until,  as  the  woman  re- 
marked to  me,  "  a  wasted  fortune  could  be  repaired." 
Within  seventy -five  miles  of  her  temporary  mining 
home,  not  another  woman  resides ! 

Such  are  some  of  the  sacrifices  imposed  by  the 
struggle  for  gold  and  silver  in  these  mountains. 
Sooner  or  later  the  precious  ores  cost  the  possessor 
all  they  are  worth.     Usually  the  road  is  long  before 


THE  MINING  INDUSTRY. 


55 


[jem    spend 

the  (level- 
sacrifice  of 
and  reside 
n,  in  order 
engaged  in 
11  ts  and  at- 
;ni. 

V  np  in  the 
se,  a  rough- 
ich  a  young 

woman,  are 
I,  something 

Upon  this 
to  law,  must 
)rk,  else  the 
land  son  are 

cquirement. 
from  min- 
in  another 

mother,  and 
woman  re- 

e  repaired." 

|rary  mining 

)sed  by  the 
mountains. 

he  possessor 
lonir  before 


1 

■I 

■* 


a  claim  becomes  remunerative,  even  if  it  prove  a 
remarkably  rich  one.  Great  patience,  perseverance, 
and  courage,  as  well  as  a  practical  knowledge  of 
mining,  and  a  large  outlay  of  money,  are  the  preface 
to  success.  And  often,  after  the  lavish  expenditure 
of  all  these,  success  hides  out  of  sight. 

It  has  been  estimated  that  from  twenty-five  to 
forty  per  cent  of  the  attempts  to  extract  fortunes 
from  the  heart  of  these  mountains  end  in  ruin. 
The  outlay  is  continual.  The  income  may  never 
come.  Far  surer  of  coaxing  gold  out  of  the  valleys 
is  the  man  who  plants  potatoes  and  corn  therein. 
Still,  Arizona  is  one  of  the  richest  mineral  lands  of 
the  world.  Leaving  gold  and  silver  out  of  the 
question,  it  is  affirmed"  that  the  Territory's  annual 
yield  of  copper  alone  will  in  a  few  years  reach  the 
vast  sum  of  twenty-five  million  dollars.  Statistics 
showing  the  enormous  output  of  some  of  the  Arizona 
copjier  mines  might  here  be  given,  were  it  my  pur- 
pose to  cumber  this  little  book  with  details  of  that 
character.  I  may  add  here,  however,  that  in  the 
opinlori  of  a  thoughtful  observer  of  the  industry, 
both  here  and  in  Colorado,  "  mining,  properly  con- 
ducted, is  one  of  the  most  remunerative  pursuits 
which  men  follow,  and  is  excelled  in  this  respect 
only  by  the  liquor  traffic."  He  might  have  con- 
tinued :  '^  There  is  this  marked  difference,  though, 
in  the  getting  started.  Frequently  the  miner  invests 
a  fortune  before  he  receives  a  farthing  in  return. 


^    4 

i    '•- 
] 


i 


If 


fT'Tfffl  IfT"*- 


:! 


TiG 


ARIZONA. 


On  the  other  hand,  ten  tlolhirs  will  establish  a 
saloon.  And  not  unlikely,  the  first  day  after  the 
screen  is  adjusted  inside  the  front  door,  revenue 
from  the  modest  stock  of  mingled  water,  chemicals, 
and  ulcoliol  begins  to  flow  in  freely." 


!     I 


i:;i:^ij 


ii:!!i!l 


■V  \^  -JPWPl- 


!H 


:  3^f?' = 


^^' 


III 

ii.,   !    \ 

!;!ti  ij:ii 

V 

1  til  ipi 

liiliiii. 

I  establish  a 
(lay  after  the 
door,  revenue 
ter,  chemicals, 


IX. 

©UGSON. 


m 


'■iiir:^---;'2%.- 


THE  city  of  Tucson  stands  in  the  center  of  a 
wide  sandy  plain,  a  part  of  the  great  desert  we 
have  traversed  two  days  and  two  nights.  It  lies 
on  the  Santa  Cruz  River,  sixty  miles  north  of  the 
frontier  of  Old  Mexico,  two  hundred  and  twenty 
miles  west  of  Deraing,  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
east  of  Yuma,  reputed  to  be  the. "hottest  place  in 
the  world."  Tucson  is  in  size  the  chief  town  of 
Arizona,  and  has  a  population  of  about  fourteen 
thon.sand.  Prior  to  the  American  regime  it  was  a 
Mexican  military  post  of  some  consequence.  It  is 
now  a  mining  center  of  much  influence,  and  is  the 
capital  of  Pima  County,  itself  large  enough  to  make 
a  good-sized  state. 

Tuscon,  like  St.  Augustine,  is  an  un-American, 
and,  on  a  small  scale,  extremely  cosmopolitan  city. 
A  resident  of  the  place  avers  that  on  its  streets 
may  be  heard  eighteen  different  languages.  Amer- 
icans, Mexicans,  Germans,  Russians,  Italians,  Aus- 
trians.  Frenchmen,  Spaniards,  Greeks,  the  Chinese, 
.Tajianese,  Portuguese,  the  African,  Irishman,  and 
Sandwich  Islander  are  all  here,  being  drawn  to  the 

spot  by  the  irresistible  mining  influence. 

57 


'li 


IS"  I 


I't 


;rj! 


I  .i'l 


fX         II 


I', I 


^i.il--il! 


|i:i!jH 
4 


i 


il 


58 


ARIZONA. 


In  1694  the  Spaniards  established  a  military 
station  here,  for  the  der'ense  of  their  Mission  of  San 
Xavier.  But  its  Indian  occupation  antedates  that 
day.  So,  under  cloudless  skies,  and  in  sight  of 
haze-mantled  mountains,  the  place  has  dreamed 
away  the  years  for  centuries  past.  It  contains  a 
few  modern  dwellings,  but  the  majority  are  built  of 
adobe,  in  the  style  prevalent  throughout  this  region 
from  an  early  day.  Usually  they  stand  flush  upon 
the  sidewalk,  are  one  story  in  height,  have  the 
floors  laid  upon  the  ground,  and,  exteriorly,  are  but 
straight  white  walls,  pierced  for  doors  and  windows. 
Two  or  three  live  newspapers  find  plenty  to  do 
extolling  the  town,  the  climate,  and  the  buried 
wealth  of  the  territory.  There  are  several  Protest- 
ant churches,  with,  of  course,  a  Catholic  house  of 
worship,  and  at  least  two  good  hotels,  the  one  at 
the  railway  station  being  owned  by  the  Southern 
Pacific  Company. 

At  one  side  of  this  hotel  is  fenced  in  a  pretty 
green  inclosure,  set  with  trees,  shrubs,  and  unique 
cacti.  On  my  homeward  trip  the  train  halted  here 
for  dinner,  the  Pullman  car  stopping  just  in  front 
of  this  gem  of  green.  Lazily  leaning  against  the 
fence,  like  so  many  towers  of  Pisa,  were  a  dozen 
bronzed  Mexicans,  who  spent  the  twenty  minutes  of 
our  stay  gazing  dreamily  at  the  coaches.  Alone 
among  them  stood  a  tall,  handsome  young  woman, 
dressed   in   black,  except  that  over  her  head  was 


TUCSON. 


59 


}d  a  military 
Mission  of  San 
[\ntedates  that 
1   in   sight  of 
has    dreamed 
It  contains  a 
ty  are  built  of 
out  this  region 
ind  flush  upon 
ght,  have  the 
eriorly,  are  but 
s  and  windows. 
I  plenty  to  do 
nd   the   buried 
leveral  Protest- 
holic  house  of 
els,  the  one  at 
the  Southern 

?ed  in  a  pretty 
|bs,  and  unique 
lin  halted  here 

just  in  front 
Ing  against  the 
I,  were  a  dozen 
;nty  minutes  of 
loaches.  Alone 
I  young  woman, 

her  head  was 


4 


thrown  a  white  shawl  of  gauzy  texture,  which  fell 
in  folds  around  hor  shoulders.  With  one  elbow 
resting  on  the  fence,  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
engine  breathing  heavily  in  front  of  the  train,  she 
remained  still  as  a  statue  until  the  sharp  clang  of 
the  bell,  as  we  moved  off,  roused  her  from  her 
musings.  That  maiden  was  the  Past  of  Arizona 
personified.  It  needed  the  shrill  bell  and  piercing 
shriek  of  the  locomotive  to  break  up  the  chronic 
reverie  of  the  Territory. 

Within  a  few  miles  of  Tucson  is  to  be  seen  the 
ancient  church  of  San  Xavier,  in  a  state  of  partial 
ruin.  Considering  the  period  in  which  it  was 
reared,  and  the  almost  insuperable  difficulties  over- 
come in  conveying  materials  to  the  spot,  the  work 
is  a  wonder.  Reader,  in  making  your  visit  to  the 
Pacific  coast,  visit  the  structure  if  you  can. 


a^ 


»  < 

i     '-    llli 


X. 


Fl^OM  SUGSON   TO  LlOS  fiNGBLBS. 


CANDLE-LIGHTING,  December  18th,  found 
us  again  aboard  the  cars,  bound  for  Los  An- 
geles. The  train,  heavily  loaded  with  passengers 
hastening  to  the  sunny  clime,  was  due  on  the  coast 
next  day  at  sunset.  All  night  we  coursed  over  the 
desert,  a  welcome  raiu  laying  the  dust  toward  morn- 
ing.    Daybreak  greeted  us  at  Yuma,  the  half-way 

Yuma  may  be  imagined  as  a  small  town,  lying 
on  the  Colorado,  just  above  the  entrance  of  the 
Gila.  The  place  is  scarcely  more  inviting  than  the 
desert  itself.  As  usual,  the  houses  are  made  of 
adobe  chiefly.  Mexicans  are  the  more  numerous 
class  of  inhabitants;  and  the  climate,  extremely 
mild  in  Winter,  is  insufferably  hot  in  vSummer.  A 
fort  in  the  vicinity  is  garrisoned  by  a  small  detach- 
ment of  United  States  troops;  and  decidedly  start- 
ling, it  is  said,  are  the  adjectives  the  soldiers  some- 
times employ  to  express  the  high  temperature  which 
prevails  in  the  place  a  good  share  of  the  time. 

Yuma    is   tiie   capital  of  a  district  of  Arizona, 

once    occupied    by    the    Indian    nation    so    cal U'd. 

Over  a  century  ago  this  tribe  numbered  above  three 

thousand   persons,  who  styled  themselves  "Sons  of 
60 


ki 


FROM  TUCSON  TO  ANGELES. 


61 


h     'J. 


3BIjBS. 

18th,  found 
for  lios  An- 
t\i  passengers 
2  on  the  coast 
irsed  over  the 
toward  morn- 
,  the  half-way 

vll  town,  lying 
itrance  of  the 
ting  than  the 
are   made  of 
lore   numerous 
ate,   extremely 
Summer.     A 
H  small  detach- 
ecidodly  start- 
soldiers  some- 
iperaturc  which 
the  time, 
ct  of  Arizona, 
lion    so    called, 
l-ed  above  three 
Ives  "  Sons  of 


n 


the  River."  History  designates  them  as  being  at 
that  time  a  strong,  sensible,  and  energetic  race. 
To-day  the  case  may  be  differently  stated.  Only 
a  few  years  ago  the  Yumas  counted  but  nine  hun- 
dred and  thirty  souls,  and  every  one  of  them  was  a 
wreck  physically. 

There  is  still  a  day's  ride  before  us,  and  all  the 
morning  there  is  a  genuine  charm  in  the  fantastic 
vegetation  of  the  desert,  and  the  more  so,  as  it  is 
refreshed  by  the  falling  rain.  After  some  hours 
we  enter  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  in  the  mountains 
of  that  name,  and  when  at  the  summit  have  at- 
tained the  highest  elevation  between  Deming  and 
Los  Angeles.  The  next  step  is  to  strike  out  upon 
the  great  mesa  which  skirts  for  a  distance  of  eighty 
miles,  probably,  the  base  of  the  rugged  Sierra  Madre 
Mountains,  in  full  view  now  on  our  right,  until  we 
enter  the  city.  Of  this  plain  more  will  be  said  in 
a  subsequent  chapter. 

From  this  onward  the  stations  b?come  more 
frequent.  Flowers,  carpets  of  thick,  green  grass, 
and  new  varieties  of  ornamental  trees,  attract  us  at 
all  of  them.  San  Bernardino,  located  a  few  miles 
off  the  railway  toward  the  north,  is  the  first  name 
with  which  we  are  familiar.  Carriages  are  in  wait- 
ing to  convey  passengers  thither,  as  the  train  draws 
lip  at  the  little  "  outlet  station  "  for  the  place.  San 
Bernardino  is  one  of  the  many  health  resorts  of 
Southern  California  which  are  growing   in  reputa- 


M 


I 


■••^1 


mf% 


hSC 


•V-  H 


62 


ARIZONA. 


|.    |,r 


*  li 


t 


tion.  Its  warm  springs  and  peculiar  climate  ren- 
der it  an  especially  propitious  locality  for  the  victims 
of  rheumatism. 

We  next  hear  of  Riverside,  distinctively  a  cen- 
ter for  raisin  culture.  To  this  expanding  industry 
and  to  the  place  itself  we  shall  devote  a  succeeding 
chapter.  As  we  approach  Colton,  a  rapidly  grow- 
ing town,  and  now  important  as  the  point  where 
the  "  California  Southern "  intersects  the  Southern 
Pacific  Railway,  Riverside  lies  nine  miles  to  the 
south-east  of  us. 

At  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  our  train  landed 
its  freight  of  human  beings,  t  unks,  and  carpet-bags 
at  the  depot  in  Los  Angeles.  Here  we  were  to 
tarry  but  four  days  and  then  urge  our  way  into  the 
Valley  of  the  Ojai,  lying  ninety  miles  north  of  the 
city,  and  reputed  to  be  "the  healthiest  spot  on  the 
globe."  Rain  having  fallen  most  of  the  day,  the 
streets  of  Los  Angeles  were  narrow  ^eas  of  mud. 
And  although  the  sun  beamed  out  brigbHy  jfst 
then  the  atmosphere  was  chilly.  \V  «h  ered  in 
our  warmest   wraps.     The  questioi  Are  we 

really  in  Southern  California,  the  1.  i  of  rr  liance 
and  even  temperature,  of  which  we  have  eard  so 
much?    It  was  hardly  just  to  let  the  first  hour  decide. 

Driving  immediately  to  the  St.  Charles  Hotel, 
to  whose  kindly  and  sympathetic  manager  we  bore 
letters  of  introduction,  we  were  at  once  made  com- 
fortable with  a  warm  room  and  an  appetizing  sup- 


4 


ate  ren- 
>  victims 

,y  a  cen- 
industry 
icceeding 
lly  grow- 
nt  where 
Southern 
es  to  the 

lin  landed 
Eirpet-bags 
e  were  to 
y  into  the 
rth  of  the 
)ot  on  the 
e  day,  the 
IS  of  mud. 
ghMy  j'-'t 
ered  in 
Are  we 
r    Viance 
ard  80 
LOur  decide. 
•Ics  Hotel, 
er  we  bore 
made  com- 
itizing  sup- 


FROM  TUCSON  TO  LOS  JNGELES. 


fi.3 


per — I  'm  too  old-fashionod  to  call  the  six  o'clock 
evening  meal,  dinner.  Proi^ably  I  shall  get  used  to 
it,  for  that  is  the  name  it  goes  by,  at  all  the  first- 
class  hotels,  in  this  nineteenth  century.  That  "it 
i.s  not  in  man  that  walketh  to  direct  his  steps,"  soon 
hocanie  sadly  evident  to  us.  The  four  days  length- 
ened to  eleven.  For  one  of  us  they  were  days  of 
pain  and  suffering.  For  the  other  they  were 
crowded  with  anxiety  and  watching.  When  they 
were  passed,  the  sufferer  had  fallen  asleep  until  the 
end  comes.  A  few  days  later  he  was  laid  away, 
among  strange  dead,  on  a  geotle  hill-slope,  facing 
the  sunset.     Then  the  survivor  took  up  this  i>en. 


¥^ 


m 


■i 


I 


■  ii^: 

I 

1 

!,i 


'i!::'i 


i 

i 
1  ■ 

i  , 
( 

i 
1 

. : ;  i 
■'•'il 

; ;  1   ! 

1 

\ 

1 

ji":; 

1 

1 

:ii 

1': 

'■  '; 

i 

H 


III 
l! 


r  J. 


i'! 


XI. 

She  ^ity  op  Lxos  Angeles. 


THE  city  of  Los  Angeles,  four  years  ag;o,  well 
known  to  but  comparatively  few  persons  living 
east  of  the  Mississippi,  appeared  to  have  just  wakened 
from  its  century-long  slumber,  and  to  have  entered 
upon  a  career  of  amazing  pros|ierity.  The  Southern 
Pacific  Railroad  had  been  completed  between  two 
and  three  years  previously,  and  now  formed,  with 
the  Atchison,  Topeka  and  Santa  Fe  road,  a  high- 
way of  steel  across  the  formidable  Great  American 
Desert.  By  these  instrumentalities  a  toilsome  and 
dangerous  journey,  requiring  months  for  its  accom- 
plishment, had  been  shortened  to  a  pleasant  and  every 
way  comfortable,  though  somewhat  monotonous, 
ride  of  about  three  days.  The  effect  was  magical. 
Thousands  of  people  from  all  over  the  region  east 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  began  flouring  into  South- 
ern California,  the  city  of  Los  Angeles  being  the 
center  from  which  they  radiated  to  everywhere, 
ferreting  out  the  lovely  nooks  for  homes,  and  the 
eligible  situations  for  farms  and  towns.  Thus  was 
the  old  Spanish  city,  together  with  the  thousand 
charming  hills  and  vales  surrounding  it,  aroused  to 

a  new  and  marvelouslv  vigorous  life. 
G4 


f 

•5 


II 


li 


^m^'m 


ell 


ngo,  w 
ons  living 
it  wakened 
vo.  entered 
J  Southern 
tween   two 
rincd,  ^vith 
id,  a  high- 
American 
ilsome  and 
its  acconi- 
t  and  every 
onotonous, 
s  magical, 
region  east 
linto  South- 
being  the 
very  where, 
ea,  and  the 
Thus  was 
0  thousand 
aroused  to 


rriE  CITY  OF  LOS  ANGELES. 


65 


Tb"  unwholesome,  one-story  adobe  houses,  once 
the  only  style  seen  in  the  city,  and  still  numerous 
in  the  portion  termed  "Sonora-town,"  or  the  Mex- 
ican quarter,  were  fast  disappearing,  and  in  their 
stead  were  rising  tasteful  frame  dwellings  for  resi- 
dences, and  durable  brick  structures  for  stores  and 
business  houses.     Tiie  population  of  the  place  did 


An  Adob-3  Ruin. 

not  greatly  exceed  twenty  thousand,  and  was  a  mix- 
ture of  many  nationalities.  In  the  next  three  years 
the  number  of  its  inhal)itants  nearly  doubled,  and 
now,  February,  1887,  it  claims  forty  thousand  citi- 
zens, a  note  received  from  there  to-day,  certifying 
to  that  eiFect. 

Four  causes,  mainly,  have  {iromoted  this  aston- 
ishing growth.  These  are:  First,  the  Southern 
Pacific  Railway,  bringing  hither  not  only  all  the 
Kast,  but  Northern  California  as  well;  second,  the 


'    t  ;('■ 


fir 


I  III 


)  .1 


I  : 


':ii 


'!!    J: 

iiii 


■liM 


HIP  I 


i,  '1' 


66 


CALIFORNIA. 


almost  faultless  climate  of  the  region;  third,  the 
astonishing  fertility  of  the  soil;  and  lastly,  the 
sleepless  enterprise  of  its  people.  Among  these, 
English-speaking  Americans  predominate  in  num- 
bers, wealth,  and  influence.  Next  in  numbers  come 
the  Spanish-speaking  Americans,  or  native  Califor- 
nians,  of  whom  there  are  in  Los  Angeles  County 
between  ten  and  twelve  thousand.  Then  follow 
the  representatives  of  a  dozen  different  languages, 
among  them  a  scarcity  of  Frenchmen,  but  a  multi- 
plicity of  Chinese  and  Germans.  The  Jews  are  a 
numerous  class,  and  are  said  to  possess  the  prepon- 
derance of  wealth. 

The  city  lies  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Los  An- 
geles River,  inland  from  the  sea,  eighteen  miles,  on 
the  west,  and  twenty-one  miles  on  the  south.  Built 
chiefly  in  the  valley  of  that  stream,  down  which  it 
daily  urges  its  way,  to  the  westward  and  southward, 
it  yet  steadily  pushes  its  limits  up  the  hills  on  the 
north-west,  to-day  taking  possession  of  one  com- 
manding height,  and  to-morrow  of  another.  In- 
deed, the  time  hastens  when  all  that  fine  series  of 
elevations  lying  between  the  town  and  the  San 
Fernando  Mountains  will  be  crowned  with  hand- 
some homes,  and  be  laid  out  in  lawns  and  gardens, 
where  the  visitor  may  delight  himself  amid  an  ex- 
uberance of  trees,  flowers,  and  climbing  vines. 

Many  intelligent  persons  who  have  never  visited 
this  section  of  the  coast,  think  of  Los  Angeles  as  lo- 


iis 


third,  the 
lastly,   the 
long   these, 
te  m  num- 
mbers  come 
ive  Califor- 
eles  County 
rhen   follow 
t  languages, 
but  a  multi- 
;  Jews  are  a 
!  the  prepon- 

the  Los  An- 
teeu  miles,  on 
south.    Built 
lown  which  it 
nd  soiithward, 
,e  hills  on  the 
1  of  one  com- 

another.     In- 
,  fine  series  of 

and   the  San 
led  with  hand- 
is  and  gardens, 
ilf  amid  an  ex- 
ling  vines, 
ve  never  visited 
)s  Angeles  as  lo- 


I 


THE  CITY  OF  LOS  ANOELES. 


67 


cated  immediately  upon  the  ocean  shore,  just  as  they 
suppose  Portland,  Oregon,  to  be  situated  upon  the 
brink  of  the  Columbia  River,  and  should  they  sud- 
denly be  set  down  in  the  brisk  city,  would  at  once 
look  around  for  a  sight  of  the  big  blue  sea,  or 
would  listen  for  the  roar  of  its  tumbling  waves. 
Nor  is  this  lack  of  correct  geographical  knowledge 
at  all  surprising.  One  can  not  know  every  thing, 
and  necessarily  the  maps  do  not  represent  the  facts 
accurately.  It  requires  no  small  fraction  of  one's 
time  to  acquaint  himself  with  the  details  of  matters 
right  at  one's  door.  To  grasp  all  that  are  embraced 
within  the  horizon  would  demand  several  "  three- 
score years  and  ten." 

Los  Angeles  has  two  outlets  to  the  sea,  as  fol- 
lows: Santa  Monica,  a  pretty  village  lying  on  the 
coast,  eighteen  miles  west  of  the  city,  was  formerly 
the  chief  port  of  landing,  but  being  somewhat 
ineligible,  and  San  Pedro,  on  the  shore,  twenty-one 
miles  south  of  the  city,  having  been  declared  by  the 
Government  the  port  of  entry  for  Southern  Cali- 
fornia, the  piers  were  removed  from  Santa  Monica, 
and  the  place  became  simply  a  sea-side  resort  and 
temporary  home  for  such  invalids  as  are  benefited 
by  close  contact  with  the  ocean.  Thus  exit  from, 
or  entrance  to,  the  metropolis  by  sea  is  confined  to 
San  Pedro,  which,  though  but  an  insignificant  place, 
is  the  entrepdt  and  outpdt  for  a  large  district  of 
Southern  California.     The  point  has  something  of  a 


m 


M 


>  11 


If 


ll    I. 


68 


CALIFORNIA. 


history,  and  a  short  chapter  will  be  devoted  to  its 
attractions  further  on. 

If  you  are  not  making  an  ocean  trip,  but  desire 
simi)ly  to  breathe  the  fresh  sea  air  and  rest  awhile, 
you  may  run  away  either  to  Santa  Monica  or  to 
Long  Beach.  The  latter  resort  lies  on  the  eastern 
shore  of  San  Pedro  Bay.  To  both  points  there  is 
railroad  communication  from  the  city,  and  at  neither 
is  Old  Ocean  chary  of  his  tonics.  At  Santa  Monica 
you  have  the  foaming,  roaring  surf,  breaking  in  loud 
thunder  on  the  coast.  At  Long  Beacii  you  may 
enjoy  a  carriage  ride  of  several  miles  on  the  smooth, 
hard-packed  sand,  in  addition  to  the  bathing;  and 
should  you  choose  the  proper  week  of  the  season 
for  your  visit,  you  may  have  a  taste  of  the  literary 
fare  proffered  by  the  "Chautauqua  Society  of  South- 
ern California,"  which  there  holds  its  annual  ses- 
sions. Excellent  accommodations  are  afforded,  if 
you  have  forgotten  your  tent,  at  both  resorts. 
Long  Beach  boasts  one  of  the  finest  hotels  in  the 
country. 

Not  to  violate  the  custom  of  historians,  I  sup- 
,  ose  I  should  inform  the  reader  when,  and  by  whom, 
Los  Angeles  was  founded.  Very  briefly  then:  On 
the  4th  of  September,  1781,  a  company  of  Spanish 
people — twelve  of  them  men  grown — to  whom  had 
been  granted,  at  this  point  on  the  Los  Angeles 
River,  a  tract  of  land  six  miles  square,  came  upon 
the   ground    and    laid    out   this   city,  giving  it  the 


s  mUv 


THE  CITY  OF  LOS  ANGELES. 


69 


oted  to  its 

,  out  desire 
rest  awhile, 
onica  or  to 
the  eastern 
nts  there  is 
,d  at  neither 
anta  Monica 
king  in  loud 
cii  you  may 
I  the  smooth, 
jathing;  and 
)f  the  season 
the  literary 
pty  of  South- 
annual  ses- 
offorded,  if 
loth    resorts, 
lotels  in  the 

rians,  I  sup- 
id  by  whom, 
ly  then:    On 
of  Spanish 
whom  had 
,os   AngoU's 
,  came  upon 


hvmg 


it  the 


name  it  beats,  and  allotting  to  it  the  total  tract 
of  land.  All  the  original  streets  traversed  this 
square  diagonally.  And  the  stranger  must  be  quick- 
minded  who  can  to-day  determine  in  which  direc- 
tion he  is  going  without  stopp  ng  to  think.  A 
plaza  was  laid  oif  and  improved,  vhich  is  even  now 
a  central  pleasure-ground  of  the  city.  Fronting  it 
on  the  west  was  erected  the  pr/ish  church.  This 
is  still  standing,  an  anti(pi<  aid  venerable  structure. 
If  I  mistake  not,  one  or  two  more  of  the  first  build- 
ings erected  by  the  colony  are  in  existence,  but  one 
by  one  all  that  class  of  houses  must  succumb  to  the 
spirit  of  improvement  so  rife  here. 

Nearly  due  southward  through  this  territory, 
and  east  of  its  middle  line,  flows  the  Los  Angeles 
River.  Some  miles  south  of  the  city  limits  it  joins 
the  San  Gabriel  River,  and  with  it  travels  to  the 
8t'a  at  San  Pedro,  making  a  journey  of  about  thirty 
in  lies  from  its  source  in  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains. 

The  Los  Angeles  is  one  of  those  streams  whose 

bed,  at  some  ]M)ints,  is  above  the  water.     In  other 

words,  it  flows  underground,  or  is  lost  in  the  sand. 

During   the   rainy   season   it   enlarges   to   a   broad 

river,   with   a    powerful    current   and    a   dangerous 

shifting  bottom.     Widely  overflowing  its  banks,  it 

sweeps  away  real  estate  and  personal       property  in 

most  merciless  fashion.     Scarcely  a  season  passes  in 

wliieh  adventurous  men  do  not  lose  their  lives  in 

attempting  to  cross  it  with  teams  when  at  its  flood. 

7 


L  :.;    :;  1; 


ili; 


wmm 


70 


CALIFOnNTA. 


1 


li      ; 


I  'm 


I 


Both  driver  and  horses  soon  disnppear  benenth  its 
restless  quicksaiKls.  But  h;t  the  early  Autumn 
oonic !  Then  the  once  raging  torrent  purls  along,  a 
narrow,  shallow,  garrulous  brook,  whieh  bare-footed 
children  may  easily  ford. 

The  rain-fall  in  Southern  California  during  the 
Winter  of  1884  had  not  been  equaled  in  twenty- 
six  years.  The  Los  Angeles  then  rose  to  a  great 
height.  Numberless  small  tenements,  improvidently 
built  too  near  its  brink,  were  swept  from  their 
anehorage  and  borne  away  toward  the  sea,  or  were 
ruthlessly  wrecked  on  the  spot.  From  the  window 
of  my  secure  hill-top  home  I  could  look  down  upon 
the  stream  and  witness  its  ravages.  Several  lives 
were  that  winter  a  prey  to  its  waters. 

At  a  point  near  the  city  a  certain  portion  of  the 
water  of  tiu-  fios  Angeles  River  is  taken  up  and 
conveyed  hither  and  thither  through  seventy-five 
miles  or  more  of  canals,  thus  forming  the  Los  An- 
geles Irrigation  System.  In  addition  to  this,  several 
private  water  companies  supply  the  fluid, from  other 
sources,  to  extensive  districts,  for  house,  lawn,  and 
garden  purposes.  The  value  of  effective  systems  of 
irrigation  to  horticulture  and  vegetable  farming  in 
Southern  California  exceeds  all  estimate.  So  rare 
is  frost  that  a  harvest  of  almost  every  product 
which  grows  here,  is  nearly  an  absolute  certainty 
with  a  moderate  supply  of  water. 

The   canals    are    called    zaugas.     The   superin- 


THE  CITY  OF  LOS  ANGELES. 


71 


th  its 
imnin 

ong,  a 
-footed 

ing  the 
tvventy- 
a  great 
vidently 
m   their 
or  were 
.  window 
)wn  upon 
era!  lives 


ion  of  ti>i' 
up  ami 
|venty-five 
Los  An- 
is,  several 
roni  other 
I  lawn,  and 
Isv stems  of 
Ifarniing  i" 
.     So  rare 
i-y  product 
certainty 

lie   superin- 


m 


tendent  of  the  system  is  styled  the  zangero.  Nec- 
essarily he  must  be  a  man  promptly  attentive  to 
hnsiiiess.  When  the  day  arrives  for  a  certain  orange 
orchard  or  vineyard  to  be  flooded,  the  zangero  must 
have  the  refreshing  liquid  ready  to  laugh  and  rip- 
ple around  the  roots  of  the  thirsty  trees,  the  mo- 
iiiont  the  gate  is  opened  which  admits  it  to  the 
premises.  He  must  also  remember  who  wants  it  at 
night,  and  see  that  such  parties  get  it,  and  in  suf- 
ficient quantity;  nor  must  he  fail  to  withdraw  it 
from  them  in  the  morning. 

The  soft  murmuring  of  the  water  as  it  glides 
through  the  zangas  in  some  of  the  beautiful  suburbs 
of  the  city  is  sweet  music  to  the  ear,  a  happy  voice 
sending  out  joy  and  gladness.  Wherever  it  is  heard 
are  sure  to  be  seen  verdure,  flowers,  and  fruit. 

One  of  the  comforts  a  stranger  appreciates  in 
Los  Angeles  is  its  well-lighted  streets.  The  place 
can  certainly  make  good  its  claim  to  being  the  best 
hghted  city  on  the  continent.  From  the  central 
streets  to  the  most  outlying  alleys  the  darkness  is 
so  far  dispelled  as  to  enable  the  citizens  to  go  about 
with  ease.  Electricity  is  the  ageut  by  which  the 
result  is  accomplished.  Mainly  the  light  radiates 
from  a  system  of  tall  masts,  so  located  as  to  in  each 
case  illuminate  the  largest  possible  area. 

In  most  cities  lighted  by  electricity  only  the  central 
and  wealthier  portions  enjoy  the  luxury,  the  remoter 
precincts  taking  the  cheaper  illuminators.     Usually 


Ifl 


72 


CALIFORNIA, 


\ii 


I  ! 


too,  in  such  cities,  the  higii  price  of  property  at  the 
heart  of  things,  drives  the  poor  man  out  into  the 
darkness  for  a  home.  In  Los  Angeles  the  light 
has  gone  out  to  this  class,  and  may  be  termed  "the 
poor  man's  light."  Thus,  also,  are  the  owners  of 
humble  h(»mes,  as  well  as  the  proprietors  of  the 
more  elegant  ones,  reaping  the  benefit  of  the  aug- 
mented value  of  real  estate  which  the  system  of 
lighting  helps  to  create. 

A  peculiarity  of  the  system  is  the  round,  flat 
"hood,"  or  reflector,  which  crowns  every  mast. 
This  both  throws  the  light  upon  the  ground,  and  pre- 
vents its  wasteful  radiation  through  the  atmosphere. 
The  area  illuminated  by  this  plan  is,  it  is  asserted, 
twenty  times  greater  than  the  space  formerly  lighted 
by  gas  in  the  city,  while  the  cost  of  the  arrangement 
is  only  about  twice  that  of  the  latter.  Per  conse- 
quence, the  citizens  are  constantly  and  generously 
providing  for  an  extension  of  the  facility.  This  is 
soundly  politic;  a  casting  of  bread  upon  the  waters, 
which  will  return  a  myriad  of  loaves  in  leas  than 
many  days. 

Three  notable  ranges  of  mountains  begirt  the 
city  of  Los  Angeles,  while  farther  away,  in  full  view, 
lie  several  shorter  chains.  Within  some  ten  miles 
of  the  place,  at  their  nearest  point,  and  stretching 
off  eastward  to  the  San  Gorgonio  Pass,  rise  the 
white  summits  of  the  Sierra   Madre,  bold,  rugged 


THE  CITY  OF  LOS  ANGELES. 


73 


.rty  at  the 
t  into  the 

the  light 
rmed  *'  the 
owners  of 
tors  of  the 
3f  the  aug- 

system  of 

round,  flat 
every   mast, 
ind,  and  pre- 
atmospliere. 
t  is  asserted, 
luevly  lighted 
arrangement 
Per  con  se- 
el   generously 
ity.     This  is 
|>n  the  waters, 
in  leas  than 


IS  begirt  the 
in  full  view, 
)me  ten  miles 
md  stretching 
L*ass,  rise  the 
bold,  ruggetl ' 


elevations,  wonderfully  suggestive  of  stability  and 
strength.  So  near  do  they  appear  to-day,  in  this 
strangely  clear  atmosphere,  that  from  my  window, 
when  the  western  sun  lights  them  up,  I  can  plainly 
see  into  their  riven  sides.  They  are  the  first  object 
my  ye  rests  upon  in  the  morning,  and  the  last  one 
to  be  shut  out  at  night.  An  indescribable  solace 
have  they  often  proved  to  me,  a  stranger  in  this 
beautiful  but  melancholy  land. 

One  distinguished  summit  of  the  range  is  Mount 
San  Bernardino,  near  the  village  of  that  name,  and 
sixty-three  miles  from  Los  Angeles.  It  towers  eight 
thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  sea-level,  and  in 
all  dry,  clear  weather  is  visible  from  here.  Another 
lordly  projection  is  Mount  Baldy,  immediately  north 
of  Ontario,  and  easily  accessible  from  that  prosper- 
ous colony.  Though  forty  miles  from  the  city,  the 
monarch  looks  down  upon  the  driving  Los  Angelans 
with  the  air  of  a  watchful  deity.  North  of  the  city 
looms  up  the  San  Fernando  range,  shutting  out  the 
fertile  valley  and  the  once  wealthy  mission  named 
in  honor  of  that  saint.  West  of  us  the  Santa 
Monica  Mountains  sweep  proudly  down  to  the  verge 
of  the  Pacific. 


XII. 

Invalids  in  Southei^n  ^alipoi^nia. 


I!f  ■ 


SUNLIGHT  is  the  life  of  Soutliern  California  at 
any  time,  but  especially  in  Winter.  With 
so  many  snow-capped  mountains  for  near  neigh- 
bors,  and  a  great  sea  close  at  hand  to  send  in,  every 
now  and  then,  vast  acres  of  fog,  so  dense  with 
moisture  as  to  soon  set  roofs,  door-caps,  and  win- 
dow-ledges to  dripping  musically,  Los  Angeles 
would  prove  but  a  sorry  place  for  invalids,  were  it 
not  for  an  abundance  of  sunlight,  and  that  of  a  re- 
markable quality. 

Immediately  upon  the  completian  of  the  South- 
ern Pacific  Railway  multitudes  of  ill  people  flocked 
to  this  part  of  the  coast.  The  accommodations  pos- 
sible for  the  limited  population  to  offer  them,  were 
soon  more  than  exhausted,  and  not  a  few  sick  per- 
sons sought  ineffectually  for  entertainment.  In  the 
short  time  which  has  since  elapsed  there  have  been 
made  large  additions  in  the  way  of  hotels  and 
boarding-houses;  still  each  winter  the  number  of 
invalids  has  exceeded  the  added  provision  for  their 
comfort. 

At  the  present  time  the  city  is  crowded  to  its 
utmost  capacity,  and  hundreds  both  of  invalids  and 
tourists  are  quartered  in  the  towns  adjacent,  making 
74 


ni 


fornia  at 

..     With 

IV  neigh- 
in,  every 

jnse   with 
and  win- 

s    Angeles 

lis,  were  it 

at  of  a  re- 

the  South- 
,ple  flocked 
Rations  pos- 
them,  were 

|w  sick  per- 

iit.     In  the 

have  been 

hotels    an<l 

number  of 

ion  for  their 

Lwded  to  it> 
linvalids  aiul 
tent,  making 


INVALIDS  IN  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA. 


75 


the  best  of  the  situation.  No  doubt  many  of  llio 
former  class  left  o()infortal)l('  homos  in  tlie  North 
and  East,  with  mistaken  uotioiis  of  both  tlie  climate 
aud  the  convenicnct's  of  HA;  hero.  Few  roiilizctl 
that,  notwithstanding  South(M'ii  C^iHfoniia  was  moro 
than  a  century  ago  in  the  hands  of  the  Span- 
iards, it  is  a  comparatively  new  land,  and  among 
improvements  to  come,  are  facilities  for  the  proper 
care  of  a  large  force  of  diseased  and  disabled  men 
and  women.  Particularly  true  is  this  of  all  the 
new  and  smaller  villages.  Nowhere  are  there  ample 
hospital  accommodations.  Hotel  room  is  inade- 
quate. Indeed,  many  things  are  but  at  the  starting 
point.  It  deserves  to  be  said,  however,  that  the 
readiness  of  the  citizens  to  serve,  and  even  faithfully 
nurse,  invalid  strangers,  is  something  remarkable, 
and  often  far  exceeds  just  demands.  A  more  hos- 
pitable, large-hearted,  and  sympathetic  people  docs 
not  exist  than  arc  the  American  residents  of  South- 
ern California.  To  this  fact  the  writer  can  bear 
grateful  testimony. 

Recently  an  officer  of  the  Young  Men's  Chris- 
tian Association,  who,  more  than  any  one  else,  per- 
iiaps,  is  aware  of  the  disappointments  encountered 
by  many  who  come  to  the  coast  for  health,  said  to 
the  writer: 

"  Emphasis  should  undoubtedly  be  laid  by  par- 
ties writing  back  to  the  States,  upon  the  fact  that 
within  a  very  short  time   Los  Angeles  has  leaped 


A] 


m 


'  u\ 


;b 


^ 


1 1 


'    ' 


I  , 


7fi 


CALIFORSfA. 


from  a  quiescent  old  SpaniHh  town  into  a  rapidly 
growing  American  city,  but  that  as  yet  its  limits 
and  provisions  are  insufficient  for  the  complete  ac- 
commodation of  the  thousands  of  tourists  and  in- 
valids who  converge  here  from  all  parts  of  the 
continent.  The  city  is  simply  taxed  beyond  its 
capacity,  and  in  spite  of  the  excellent  intentions  of 
the  citizens,  some  sick  strangers  fare  hardly. 

"And  another  thing:  Frequently  women  have 
accompanied  husbands  to  this  coast  who  were  just  on 
the  verge  of  death,  and  have  suddenly  been  left  here 
without  means  for  returning  to  their  families.  For 
such  the  city  has  no  projier  refuge  until  they  can 
either  find  employment  or  receive  help  from  their 
friends.  In  several  instances  the  pliilanthropio 
citizens  have  promptly  contributed  means  for  re- 
turning them  to  their  relatives." 

These  statements  were  made  in  1884.  Since 
then  the  deficiencies  have  to  a  considerable  extent 
been  met.  Large  hotels  and  boarding-houses  have 
multiplied  all  over  the  region.  Nevertheless,  in  the 
Winter  of  1886,  so  vast  was  the  influx  of  visitors 
from  every  quarter  that  shelter  could  barely  be  found 
for  them  all.  In  the  city  of  Los  Angeles,  at  pres- 
ent, as  will  appear  toward  the  close  of  this  work, 
are  in  progress  active  measures  for  erecting  a  spa- 
cious home  for  such  women  as  may  at  any  time  be 
left  here  in  the  pitiable  plight  above  mentioned. 
And  a  year  hence,  probably,  abundant  hospital  at- 


■J* 
■  1 


INVALIDS  IN  SOUTIfERN  CALIFOIiXlA. 


rapiiUy 
i  limits 

IctP  ac- 
and  in- 
of  the 
f()\u\  its 
lions  of 

len  have 
cjiist  on 
left  here 
es.     For 
they  can 
•om  their 
Linthropic 
s  for  re- 


tentions can  be  guaraDtocd  all  those  who  will  require 
such  ministries. 

Consumptives    and    sufferers    from    rheumatism 
usually  picture  to  themselves  an  entire  winter  here 

I  out  of  doors,  in  the  enjoyment  of  genial  sunshine, 
and  free  from  annoyance  by  cruel  frost  or  piercing 
wind.     But  the  Winters  are  not  uniform.     Duriiis 

I  that  of  1884,  for  instance,  those  invalids  who  sur- 
vived the  change  of  climate,  which  is  very  great 
and  puts  to  an  immense  strain  most  persons  far 
advanced  in  disease,  found  themselves  confined    to 

I         their   rooms  nearly   one-half  the   time,  and    every 

I  day  in  need  of  fire,  especiiilly  if  they  were  located 
on  the  sunless  side  of  their  residences.  Added  to 
this,  some  missed  the  gentle  ministries  whieh  so 
much  conduced  to  their  pleasure  at  home.  Others 
failed,  it  may  be,  to  obtain  the  dishes  which 
tempted  appetite  and  kept  up  strength.  Under  such 
circumstances,  those  unattended  by  friends  felt  par- 
ticularly desolate.  Their  maladies  rather  increased 
than  relaxed,  perhaj)s.  ITapi)ily  those  who  had  the 
means  could  return  to  their  homes,  if  sufficient 
vitality  remained  to  endure  the  long  journey.  But 
what  could  those  do  who  possessed  but  slender 
purses,  or  had  no  helpful  friends?  They  could  do 
but  one  thing:  abide  where  they  were  until  they 
entered  upon  their  final  rest.  That  has  been  the 
sad  fate  of  many.  Then  a  few  Christian  men  and 
women,  or  a  half-dozen  members  of  some  benevolent 


'-^. 'I 


M 


4 


■  %'4 


',  * 


ail 


78 


CALIFORNIA. 


.1 

I 

1 

1 

1      i 

) 

order  to  which  they  have  belonged,  will  sorrowfully 
consign  them  to  tlio  arms  of  Mother  Earth. 

These  are  strong  and  not  very  cheerful  state- 
ments. Yet  are  they  true,  and  scarcely  less  so  to-day 
than  they  were  three  years  ago.  0»ic  needs  but  to 
note  the  number  of  funerals  held  at  the  undertaking 
establishments,  or  to  observe  the  array  of  newly 
made  graves  in  the  cemeteries,  to  be  convinced  on 
this  ])oint.  Most  of  the  graves  in  which  sleep  the 
once  lonely  and  needy,  will  be  found  marked  with 
but  a  narrow  board,  and  upon  it  inscribed  the 
occupants'  name,  age,  and  the  date  of  his  death. 

A  resident  of  the  citv  has  several  times  remarked 
to  me:  "Should  we  attend  the  funerals  of  all  the 
invalid  strangers  who  die  here  we  should  do  little 
else."  Some  two  weeks  ago  a  member  of  one  of 
the  well-known  transcontinental  excursion  firms 
stated  that  of  five  young  men,  victims  of  consump- 
tion, who  came  to  the  coast  with  his  last  company, 
three  passed  away  within  a  week  after  their  arrival. 
Not  far  from  our  door  there  entered  into  rest  the 
other  day  a  noble  young  woman,  a  teacher  in  the 
schools  of  Canada.  She  had  not  a  relative  this  side 
the  Dominion.  Hope  of  regaining  health  induced 
her  to  undertake  the  long,  wearying  journey  alone. 
The  draught  upon  her  strength  was  too  great.  Ty- 
phoid fever  came  in  and  ended  the  scene.  Leaving 
means  too  scanty  to  convey  her  remains  to  her 
home,  h umane  h'^nds  consigned  them  to  the  grave  here. 


i» 


ik 


INVALIDS  IN  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA.       79 


fully 

statc- 
o-(lay 
)Ut  to 
:aking 
newly 
-c(l  on 
ep  the 
(I  with 
ed  the 
ith. 

marked 
'  all  the 
o  little 
one  of 
n    firms 
)nsump- 
Mnpany, 
arrival, 
rest  the 
in   the 
his  side 
induced 
alone. 
t.     Ty- 
«aving 
to   her 
vehere. 


What,  then,  shall  the  great  armv  of  sufferers  in 
our  colder  latitudes  do?  Not  cj^-^-j  to  California? 
Very  decidedly,  no ;  not  after  death  is  at  the  door. 
But  come  when  your  disease  begins  to  develop. 
Make  the  sacrifice  of  leaving  friends  and  business 
earlier.  Study  the  climate  of  different  localities  on 
or  near  the  coast.  Or,  what  is  better,  have  your 
physician  do  it  for  you,  and  before  you  leave  home. 
By  all  means,  get  into  the  right  place  for  your  mal- 
ady. Remember  that  sunlight  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia is  as  necessary  to  the  life  of  sick  persons  as  it 
is  to  the  life  of  vegetation.  Hence  secure  rooms,  if 
possible,  which  the  sunlight  enters  at  least  a  part  of 
the  day ;  if  all  day,  the  better  for  you.  Understand, 
however,  that  noi  even  this  potent  agency  can  re- 
store to  health  persons  just  ready  to  die  upon  their 
arrival  heu 

Conversing  with  a  leading  physician  of  the  city 
on  this  subject  to-day^  he  expressed  substantially  the 
following  opinions,  which,  though  a  partial  repeti- 
tion of  what  has  already  been  said,  I  think  best  to 
insert  here: 

In  cases  of  consumption,  where  the  disease  is 
not  so  far  dtiveloped  as  to  make  recovery  impossi- 
ble anywhere,  it  is  a  good  thing  to  come  to  South- 
ern California,  for  three  reasons.  First — A  change 
of  climate  and  locality  is  secured.  Other  things 
being  equal,  this  is  an  advantage.  Second — There 
being,  usual/};,  little   rain-fall,  and  no  frost  to  be 


?y 


80 


CALIFORNIA. 


considered,  especially  on  the  hills,  opportunity  is 
ofTerwl  to  live  much  out  of  doors ;  and  life  in  the 
air  and  sunlight  is  the  consumptive's  prime  re- 
quirement. Third — Once  here,  choice  can  easily  be 
made  between  the  moist,  salt  air  of  the  sea,  the  dry, 
bracing  atmosphere  of  the  foot-hills,  the  vigorous 
breath  of  the  open  cauons,  and  the  genial  air  of 
the  broad,  sunny  j)lains  or  verdant  valleys.  It  ha" 
been  learned  that  the  climate  of  no  single  situation 
affects  all  consumptives  alike.  One  will  improve 
on  the  border  of  the  sea,  its  stiff  breeze  and  chill- 
ing fog  helping.  From  these  the  next  patient  must 
run  for  his  life.  Another  will  take  in  mouthfuls 
of  health  with  every  breath  on  a  hill-top.  The 
reasons  for  this  are  very  apparent.  In  the  various 
patients  the  disease  is  at  all  stages  of  progress. 
Then  each  sufferer's  ailment  is  due  to  a  different 
cause.  All  these  are  matters  which  should  be  intel- 
ligently studied. 

A  prudent  coi'rse,  perhaps,  is  to  make  Los  An- 
geles your  initial  point.  From  there  removal  to 
other  localities  can  be  eilticted  at  small  cost  of  time, 
money,  and  strength.  The  city  lies  with  an  hour's 
ride  of  the  two  sea-side  resorts  already  named.  And 
decking,  like  lovely  gems,  the  great  plain  which 
skirts  the  base  of  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains,  from 
the  charming  village  of  Pasadena,  eastward  seventy 
miles  or  more,  are  the  pretty  towns  of  Garvanza, 
Monrovia,  San  Gabriel,  Pomona,  Ontario,  Etiwanda, 


P 
t\ 

A 


the 

ful 


INVAfJDS  IN  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA. 


SI 


An- 
al  to 
Lime, 
our's 
And 
ifhich 
from 
venty 
7anza, 
knda, 


and  San  Bornardino,  all  ortVring  special  induccmonts 
in  the  way  of  scenery,  situation,  climate,  jjood  water, 
or  healing  springs.  All  lie  near  or  upon  the  South- 
ern Pacific  Railway,  and  afford  one  or  more  well- 
kept  hotels,  while  many  of  the  private  families  open 
their  homes  to  strangers  in  cases  of  exigency.  San 
Bernardino  treats  rheumatic  people  to  mud  baths. 
Ontario  tents  asthmatic  visitors  in  the  mouth  of  her 
San  Antonio  canon.  Consumptives  may  distribute 
themselves  all  over  the  prairie,  as  suits  their  case. 
Santa  Ana,  farther  south  on  the  plain,  is  said  to  be 
an  excellent  j)oint  for  them.  In  some  of  these 
places  there  is  not  so  remarkable  a  difference  be- 
tween the  air  of  the  day  and  the  night,  as  at  Los 
Angeles. 

San  Diego,  on  the  coast,  one  hundred  and  thirty 
miles  south  of  Los  Angeles,  and  connected  thert  with 
by  rail  and  by  steamer,  undoubtedly  offers  better 
conditions  for  the  cure  of  consumption  and  throat 
disorders  than  does  this  city.  But  once  more  patients 
diagree.  A  clergyman  from  the  vicinity  of  Boston, 
who  had  for  several  months  tested  the  climate  of  San 
Diego  for  a  severe  throat  affection,  said  he  "could 
breathe  most  freely  where  fogs  are  frequent."  On  the 
contrary,  a  friend  in  this  city,  similarly  afflicted,  finds 
respiration  most  diilicult  in  a  moist  atmosphere,  and 
therefore  chose  as  her  place  of  residence  a  delight- 
ful hill  top  above  the  altitude  of  ordinary  fogs. 


M*. 


v^^li 


it 


— 1   'J  '■"ma 


WHMIW 


SS9BBB] 


i|!l 


XIIT. 


?jt>HArp  Shall  we  ^Obai^? 


I  i'M"'i 


III  -i'l 


illjli'^ 


THE  qiiostion  of  clothing  ou  the  Pacific  Coast  is 
an  important  one.  Ordinarily  the  same  ap- 
parel may  be  worn  the  year  round,  and  should  be 
composed  of  such  garments  as  form  the  indoor 
Winter  raiujent  throughout  the  East.  Neither  old 
nor  young,  sick  nor  well,  should  stray  hither  un- 
supplied  with  both  light  and  heavy  wraps.  Of 
nights  and  mornings  they  are  indispensable  to  com- 
fort, es}>e(!ially  on  days  when  the  sun  refuses  to 
shine.  Happily  such  days  are  few.  As  has  been 
said,  from  the  sun,  in  large  part,  come  the  cheer, 
the  enjoyment,  the  recuperation,  and  strength  so 
ardently  anticipated  by  the  thousands  who  seek  the 
coast  in  Winter.  From  the  lirst  of  October  until  the 
middle  of  June,  warm  shawls,  Newmarki!ts,  fur-lined 
cloaks,  and  heavy  overcoats  are  in  brisk  demand, 
except,  perhaps,  at  midday,  and  are  often  welcome 
at  evening  throughout  the  Summer.  Light  cloth- 
ing, nuide  of  linen,  cambrics,  and  similar  fabrics,  is 
never  needed  except  on  a  few  days  in  Midsumuur, 
and  even  then  can  easily  be  dispensed  with. 

Last  October  there  came  to  Los  Angeles  a  lady 


WHAT  SHALL  WE  WKAi:? 


h:^ 


k'k  tlve 
litil  the 
li'-linod 
Miiaml, 
[I'lcome 
(!U)th- 
jtricH,  is 
|muiu>r, 

.  liuly 


from — sonu'whcrc  in  tiic  East — bringing  an  ample 
Smnincr  wardrobe,  and  leaving  at  home  most  of  hor 
Winter  attire.  She  expectwl  to  find  the  tempera- 
ture ranging  in  the  neighborhood  of  ninety  or  one 
hundred  degrees.  Late  in  April  that  |)ortion  of 
her  outfit  remained  snugly  |)aeked  in  lier  truid<H. 
As  she  went  up  the  coast  early  in  May,  passed  the 
Summer  in  San  Francisco,  where  such  !ip|)arel  sel- 
dom gets  an  airing,  made  an  Autumn  visit  in  Or- 
egon, and  returned  to  her  homo  in  December,  her 
thin  dresses  liad  a  long,  restful  trij). 

A  bright  woman  at  my  side  says: 

"  When  r  left  Michigan,  a  few  years  ago,  a 
doleful  asthmatic,  with  scarcely  a  hope  of  relief, 
even  in  Southern  C'alifornia,  my  friends  laughed  at 
th(!  idea  of  my  bringing  flannels,  'What  possible 
need  of  such  gnrmenl?!,'  they  asked,  *in  a  land  of 
perpetual  bloom?'  So  I  left  my  warm  underwear 
to  freezes  in  the  W^^lverine  State,  while  I  did  the 
sauie  thing  in  Los  Angeles." 

There  is  another  point :  Many  invalids  delay 
their  journey  to  the  Pacific  Coast  until  too  late  in 
the  season,  numbers  coming  towards  the  middle 
of  Wiuter.  The  danger  of  taking  cold  is  then 
much  increased,  since  heavy  rains  are  imminent. 
Pneumonia  comes  with  them,  and  is  on  the  alert 
for  strangers  with  weak  lungs,  often  quickly  chang- 
ing the  scene  for  the  suli'erers,  by  shutting  out  this 
world.     It  is  stated  that  about  ninety  of  every  m^ 


...■^s-fsgamm 


V 


84 


CALIFORNIA. 


il  ! 


|i' 


liundrfd  persons  contraot  a  sovere  cold  immediately 
upon  reacliin^  the  coast.  This  is  ii  sort  of  toll  the 
climate  exacts  for  the  delights  it  means  to  confer 
afterwards.  A  little  caution  exercised  for  some 
days  niijiht  cheat  it  out  of  that  revenue.  Dress 
warmly;  avoid  draughts  of  air;  carry  a  wrap  on 
your  arm,  if  you  go  out  at  midday  to  remain  after 
four  o'clock. 

Upon  arriving  in  Los  Angeles  health-seekers 
should  avoid,  particularly  in  Winter,  apartments  on 
the  first  floors  of  brick,  adobe,  and  even  frame 
dwellings,  if  the  floors  are  laid  near  the  ground. 
An  adobe  house  is  .seldom  more  than  one  story 
in  height.  The  floors  are  rarely  raised  above  the 
soil;  hence  the  rains  render  them  damp  and  un- 
wholesome. Moreover,  the  initiated  claim  that  the 
older  adobe  residences  are  little  better  than  hot- 
beds for  engendering  malaria.  Malignant  fevers 
lurk  among  their  sand  and  gravel.  Tu  all  such 
quarters  fire  is  the  more  indispensable,  and  in 
Southern  California  the  word  fire  means  something. 
A  large  portion  of  the  coal  used  comes  from  Aus- 
tralia, and  each  ton  costs  a  small  fortune.  The 
crooked  roots  of  the  "grease-bush,"  together  with 
the  trimmings  from  the  eucalyptus,  pepper,  and 
other  trees,  constitute  the  staple  for  wood.  Coal-oil 
ifl  meeting  with  some  favor  here  as  a  fuel,  but  the 
heat  from  it  is  not  the  most  agreeable  in  living 
rooms  for  the  seriously  ill. 


p(lii\toly 
toll  the 
>  confer 
)r  some 
Dress 
wrap  on 
lin  after 

i-seckers 
nents  on 
!n    frame 
ground. 
)ne  story 
ibove  the 
)  and  un- 
that  the 
han  hot- 
it    fevers 
all  such 
and    in 
mething. 
om  Aus- 
ic.     The 
her  with 
p(M\    and 
Coal-oil 
hut  the 
n  living 


'1 


XIV. 

fl     FOI^MBI^    ^OMB     OP     GBNBI^AL     AND 


A  CURIOSITY  which  finds  satisfaction  in  visit- 
ing localities  where  flagrant  crimes  have  been 
coinmltted,  is  a  quality  utterly  lacking  in  the  writer. 
I  would  not  walk  one  rod  to  see  where  a  notorious 
criminal  had  lived  or  died.  Nor  would  I  write 
one  line  to  spread  the  fame  or  perpetuate  the  name 
of  such  a  being.  But  I  freely  confess  that  I  find 
pleasure  in  looking  upon  the  dwelling-place,  in 
contemplating  the  work,  in  standing  beside  the  grave 
of  man  or  woman  who  has  spent  tliis  life  in  well- 
doing. In  such  places,  in  such  work  there  is  in- 
spiration. Something  about  them  always  suggests 
the  character  of  the  persons,  their  loveliness,  genu- 
ii\eness,  taste,  and  power,  and  strengthens  you. 

These  notions  found  a  practical  application  this 
morning  in  a  visit  paid  t(»  the  former  home  (/  Gen- 
eral— then  Captain — and  M^rs.  W.  S.  Hajicock,  who 
for  several  years  before  the  Rebellion  were  residents 
of  Los  Angeles,  Descending  the  long,  zigzag,  pub- 
Vw.  staircase  which  leads  from  upper  to  lower  Third 
Street,  and  thence  passing  on  down  to  Main  Street, 

and  crossing  that  diagonally,  turning  a  little  to  the 

8  86 


-k 


86 


CALIFORNIA. 


right,  I  stood  in  front  of  a  square  brick  cottage, 
one  story  in  lieigiit,  and  painted  red.  A  \vi<le  ve- 
randa, ample  for  a  half  do/en  persons  to  sit  and 
chat  at  eventide,  shaded  its  two  front  doors.  This 
spot  afforded  a  view  of  the  magnificent  sunsets,  and 
from  all  I  have  learned  was  the  favorite  retjrt  of 
the  few  American  residents  of  Los  Angeles  in  thnt 
early  day. 

The  house  was  built  for  Captain  Hancock  about 
the  year  1859,  by  the  present  mayor  of  the  city, 
Mr.  E.  C.  Thorn,  himself  a  devoted  personal  friend 
of  the  Hancocks.  The  dwelling  is  a  duplicate  of 
the  one  in  which  Mr.  Thorn  then  resided,  and  which 
now  stands  on  the  adjoining  lot,  to  the  left  of  the 
cottage,  the  mayor's  present  stately  home  being  on 
the  right  of  it,  with  a  narrow  street  intervening. 
In  the  yard  surrounding  the  cottage,  their  trunks 
half  buried  I'n  a  mound  of  loose  earth,  stand  several 
orange  trees,  now  destitute  of  fruit.  Originally  this 
yard,  set  with  flowers,  vines,  fruit  and  ornamental 
trtHJs,  formed  a  scene  of  beauty  which  both  families 
enjoyed.  Mrs.  Hancock  is  said  to  have  been  pas- 
sionately fond  of  flowers. 

Hearing  the  sounds  of  workmen  inside,  and  both 
front  doors  standing  wide  open,  I  walked  in,  and 
in  one  of  the  back  rooms  found  a  young  man,  who, 
upon  learning  my  errand,  very  courteously  acted 
the  part  of  host  to  the  empty  house  and  furnished 
me   the   information   I   sought.     The  plan  of  the 


I 


A  FORMER  HOME  OF  (JEN.  HANCOCK.      87 

dwolHng  is  very  peculiar,  and  suggests  that  it  was 
devised  for  botli  the  ph^asiire  and  the  convenient 
cntcrttiinnicnt  of  guests,  and  ba(^k  of  that,  that  the 
builder  himself  was  a  man  hospitai)ly  inelincd.  The 
main  part  is  done  olf  into  four  s(piare  rooms,  eaeh 
opening  into  two  others,  around  a  s(piare  post  in  the 
center.  Both  front  rooms  have  a  street  entrance, 
three  large  windows,  a  tire-place — not  grate — with 
marble  mantel,  and  two  doors  opening  into  the 
succeeding  apartment.  Those  rear  rooms  once 
opened  into  additions,  ells,  or  wings,  which  served 
the  purpose  of  kitchen,  laundry,  and  servants' 
quarters,  and  partly  inclosed  the  presidio  between 
them.  These  wings  arc  now  removed,  and  in  the 
thick  walls  of  the  n)ain  building  ap|)ear  large  aper- 
tures, in  which  are  inserted  heavy  screws,  ready  for 
transferring  the  whole  structure  to  the  rear  of  the 
lot,  where  it  will  serve  as  shops,  the  ground  it  now 
occupies  being  required  for  a  new  street  opening 
between  it  and  the  residence  of  the  mayor.  Tiius 
will  be  banished  to  partial  obscurity  and  t<'  '>usiness 
purposes    a    tenement  which   was  once  happy 

home  of  Almira  Russell  Hancock,  then,  a  w,  one 
of  the  noblest  and  most  beautiful  of  American 
women. 

In  the  society  of  this  frontier  post  Mrs.  Han- 
cock seems  to  have  shone  conspicuously,  not  for  her 
personal  beauty  only,  but  for  her  rare  charms  of 
miud,  grace  of  manners,  and  kindness  of  heart.    The 


■ii 


,vHB'i 


m 


-T.-   ii;;,"' 


%' 


i'  'i 


^•Ur 


88 


CALIFORNIA. 


sweetness  of  her  disposition  forms  n  subject  of  re- 
mark among  ol<l  ae(|naintan('('s  here  to-day.  Men 
and  women  alike,  who  knew  lier  well  in  the  various 
relations  of  life,  speak  of  her  with  a<lniiration,  ut- 
tering never  a  word  of  criticism.  A  gentlemen 
prominent  here  in  that  day,  said,  speaking  of  her 
this  morning: 

"  r  liave  never  known  a  woman  like  her.  She 
was  obliging  to  an  'extreme.  Accomplished  in 
music,  and  though  herself  an  Episcopalian,  she  long 
played  the  organ  in  our  mingled  Protestant  services, 
with  as  much  zeal  and  interest  as  though  she  wore 
a  member  of  all  the  churches  represented." 

Another,  for  thirty  years  a  personal  friend  and 
correspondent  of  General  Hancock,  said,  with  the 
feeling  a  brother  might  manifest: 

"I  hesitate  to  speak  of  her  as  she  deserves,  for 
I  know  her  dislike  of  publicity,  her  aversion  to 
display.  But  it  is  true  that  she  seemed  to  possess 
every  trait  that  can  adorn  the  character  of  woman. 
During  her  life  in  Los  Angeles,  she  was,  to  a  re- 
markable degree,  cheerful,  hopefid,  thoughtful  of 
the  poor,  pitiful  towards  the  sorrowing,  and  always 
ready  to  do  any  thing  that  would  conduce  to  the 
general  welfare  of  the  community.  She  was  a  wise 
mother,  and  reared  her  two  children,  Ada  and  Rus- 
sell Hancock,  with  the  future  of  their  lives  always 
in  view.  She  shone  in  society,  but  more  brightly 
at  home.     Added  to  all  this,  she  was  beautiful  to 


in 


Ithc 


hse 


lus- 


|tly 

to 


H 


A  FORMER  HOME  OF  GES.  HANCOCK. 


89 


look  at,  and  had  the  most  expressive  eyes  I  ever 
saw. 

"The  years  which  have  intervened,"  lie  contin- 
ncd,  "between  their  departure  from  this  city,  in 
1861,  I  think,  when  the  general  was  ordered  to  the 
east,  at  the  outbreak  of  tiie  Rebellion,  and  their 
recent  visit  here,  while  they  have  greatly  elevated 
her  in  social  position,  appear  only  to  have  mellowed 
the  qualities  we  admired,  not  destroyed  them." 

"There  were  so  few  of  us,  American  residents, 
in  Los  Angeles  then,"  said  another,  who,  possessing, 
like  Mrs,  Hancock,  an  obliging  and  helpful  spirit, 
had  acted  as  chorister  at  the  much  prized  Protest- 
ant services,  "  that  we  used  to  count  heads  every 
Sunday.    Often  there  were  only  thirty  of  us  all  told." 

"The  daughter  was  a  lo'  ly  girl,"  said  the  first 
speaker.  "Though  she  was  young  when  they  left 
here,  she  was  very  attractive.  Her  death  occurred 
in  New  York,  some  eight  or  nine  years  since,  I  can 
not  tell  just  how  long.  She  was  eighteen  years  of 
age,  had  just  graduated  from  some  school  in  that 
vicinity,  and  was  considered  much  accomplished. 
To  her  parents  it  was  a  terrible  bereavement. 

"Russell,  the  son  is  now  a  successful  planter  at 
Clarksdale,  Mississippi.  He  must  be  about  thirty 
years  of  age.  He  is  a  mechanical  genius,  and  con- 
structs almost  every  kind  of  machinery  which  the 
exigencies  of  his  business  require.  Neither  of  the 
children  were  born  in  Los  Angeles.     Captain  Han- 


IP 


"■'ii^i 


!!■ 


.,  41 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


"^IIIIM  IIIIM 

iiin  9 

^  mil  2.0 


1.8 


1.25 

1.4 

1.6 

^ 6"     

► 

m 


;'"8 


"/a 


<p 


// 


o 


c- 


el: 


^M 


o 


A 


/ 


Wj 


/A 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STRtET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


.♦'^ 


90 


CALIFORNIA. 


li! 


i'  i 


cock  was  transferred  to  this  post,  then  the  principal 
military  station  of  Southern  California,  from  Fort 
Tejon,  in  Kern  County." 

The  "recent  visit"  of  General  and  Mrs.  Han- 
cock to  Los  Angeles,  mentioned  by  this  friend, 
occurred  the  first  week  of  January,  1884,  and  was 
a  time  for  general  rejoicing  on  the  part  of  those 
who  had  known  and  loved  them  far  back  in  the 
fifties.  A  royal  welcome  was  given  them.  There 
was  an  enthusiastic  procession  of  the  citizens  in 
their  honor  on  New  Year's  Day,  and,  if  I  mistake 
not,  a  banquet  was  tendered  them  in  the  evening. 
When  it  was  known  that  Los  Angeles  would  be 
included  in  General  Hancock's  western  trip,  the 
mayor  of  the  city  requested  the  work  of  demolish- 
ing their  cottage  to  cease  until  after  their  departure, 
in  order  that  Mrs.  Hancock  might  see  her  early 
home  as  nearly  in  the  state  she  left  it  as  possible. 
After  seeing  it  the  excellent  woman  remarked  that 
she  had  "  spent  the  happiest  hours  of  her  life  in  that 
little  brick  cottage." 

Mrs.  Anna  Ozier,  the  widow  of  Judge  Isaac  S. 
R.  Ozier,  who  was  judge  of  the  Federal  Court  for 
Southern  California  in  1854,  was  one  of  the  first 
five  American  women  who  settled  in  Los  Angeles 
after  the  accession  of  California,  and  was  an  inti- 
mate friend  of  Mrs.  Hancock.  She  still  resides  in 
this  city,  and  entertained  her  old  friends  when  they 
were  here.     In  a  talk  with  her,  after  I  had  visited 


A  FORMER  HOME  OF  GEN.  HANCOCK. 


91 


the  dismantled  cottage,  she  cited  this  reminiscence 
of  thorn,  among  many  others.     I  give  her  words : 

"One  day  during  a  season  of  heavy  rainfall, 
like  that  we  have  had  this  Winter,  the  entire  north 
wall  of  the  captain's  house  fell  out,  flat  upon  the 
ground.  The  soil  of  Los  Angeles  hac  a  migratory 
disposition,  and  a  few  days'  heavy  rain  are  enough 
to  start  it  traveling  in  all  directions.  Besides,  the 
brick  we  got  here,  in  those  days,  were  very  porous, 
and  they,  too,  filling  with  water,  were  disposed  to 
change  quarters. 

"It  was  no  trifling  occurrence,  but  the  captain 
and  Mrs.  Hancock  took  the  trouble  with  the  great- 
est good  nature.  Happening  to  be  coming  up  the 
street  that  evening  about  tea-time,  I  saw  the  family 
sitting  at  table  as  happy  as  if  nothing  were  the 
matter. 

"Did  I  know  them  intimately?  Mercy,  yes! 
They  lived  near  us  three  years,  and  there  was  hardly 
an  evening  when  we  were  not  together.  Mrs.  Han- 
cock had  the  pleasantest  disposition  of  any  woman 
I  ever  knew,  and  a  brother  could  not  have  been 
kinder  to  me,  through  all  these  years,  than  has  been 
•General  Hancock." 

"  If  republics  are  ungrateful,  you  are  not,  I  see.'* 

"No;  and  I  shall  never  forgive  this  nation  for 
not  making  General  Hancock  President." 


mm 


ifm 


'Y* 


h^. 


XV 


^ALIPOI^NIA'S  Gl^BAip   PjlSTOI^IAN. 


llfl^l 


I  I'in 


1 

in-: 

ii 

! 

;:i 

1 

\h 


SOMETIME  in  the  latter  part  of  March,  1884, 
I  received  from  the  wife  of  Mr.  Hubert  H. 
Bancroft,  author  of  the  "History  of  the  Pacific 
Coast  States,"  a  note  stating  that  her  husband,  her- 
self, and  family  would  visit  Los  Angeles  at  an  early 
date  in  April,  and  while  there  would  "  be  glad  to 
see  me."  The  lady  and  her  children  had  wintered, 
I  believe,  in  the  Ojai  Valley,  and  now,  with  the  ad- 
vent of  Spring,  were  exchanging  that  "  most  health- 
ful of  all  valleys  on  the  globe"  for  the  sea  breeze 
at  San  Diego,  two  hundred  and  twenty  miles  farther 
south.  I  had  sought  from  Mrs.  Bancroft,  as  she 
was  within  quick  reach,  certain  information  per- 
taining to  her  husband's  great  work ;  hence  her 
kindly  reply. 

Accordingly,  next  day  after  their  arrival  I. 
called  at  the  Kimball  Mansion,  situated  on  New 
High  Street,  where  I  found  them  comfortably  quar- 
tered, with  their  family  of  four  children,  all  under 
eight  years  of  age.  During  the  informal  interview 
I  had  opportunity  to  note  how  delightful  is  the 
home  atmosphere  which  surrounds  Mr.  Bancroft, 
92 


CALIFORNIA'S  GREAT  HISTORIAN. 


93 


and  also  to  learn  many  interesting  facts  connected 
with  his  early  life,  and  with  the  founding  of  his 
unique  historic" '  libriiry  in  San  Francisco.  Most 
persons  take  pleasure  in  reading  sketches  of  the  life 
and  labors  of  such  men  as  Mr.  Bancroft.  I  there- 
fore present  a  hastily  drawn  picture  of  the  great 
historian  and  his  family  before  speaking  of  iiis  un- 
exampled literary  undertaking. 

Mrs,  Bancroft  is  an  attractive  and  cultured 
woman,  whose  married  life  covers  nine  years. 
She  is  very  youthful  in  appearance,  has  a  slight 
figure,  blue  eyes,  light  hair,- and  a  fair  complexion. 
Her  manner  is  extremely  cordial,  makii.g  one  for- 
get that  she  was  the  acquaintance  of  but  an  hour, 
instead  of  a  life-time.  She  is  pleased  with  her 
husband's  growing  reputation  as  an  author,  has  a 
keen  appreciution  of  the  im[)ortance  of  his  work, 
and  so  far  as  she  has  the  power,  compels  affairs  to 
bend  to  its  accomplishment. 

The  two  eldest  children  are  magnificent  speci- 
mens of  boyhood;  strong,  athletic  little  fellows, 
with  massive  heads  on  their  shoulders,  and  within 
their  breasts  a  mighty  purpose  to  get  out  of  every 
hour  of  time  t!ie  utmost  of  bov  cniovment.  And 
if  I  judged  correctly,  their  parents  mean  this  purpose 
shall  be  accomplished,  but  within  limits  which  shall 
not  infringe  upon  the  rights  of  others,  nor  destroy 
the  capacity  of  their  children    to   enjoy  the   higher 

pleasures  of  life   by  and  by.      From   some   things 

9 


i.ld 


mi 


% 


:i] 


i\n 


f  i: 

:                         11 : 

94 


CALIFORNIA. 


Hi  i 


1 

If 

III 

IJR 

M .' 

!  '  ii' 

*:  ■! 


jifiii 


■||i!l|fi||iif|| 


i'  :':i    I 


which  Mr.  Bancroft  has  written,  T  conclude  that  a 
favorite  opinion  of  his,  is,  that  in  the  not  very  dis- 
tant future  the — let  us  say  American — race  will 
have  made  so  great  advancement  in  what  is  termed 
"sublime  culture,"  as  to  materiallv  lessen  the  moral 
distance  between  God  and  this  nation.  And,  very  pos- 
sibly, the  man's  hope  is,that  his  sons  may  live  and  be 
fitted  to  take  part  in  the  affairs  of  that  auspicious 
time.  Just  where  fifty  years  more  of  material  and 
national  development,  like  that  of  the  past  half  cen- 
tury— were  our  rapid  progress  in  countless  enormous 
iniquities  to  suddenly  cease — would  bring  us,  even 
the  seer  endowed  with  keenest  vision  could  hardly 
foretell.  Should  it  be  at  dawn  of  an  era  so  blessed, 
any  expectations  of  that  nature  which  the  distin- 
guished historian  may  entertain,  might  possibly  be 
realized.  For,  judging  from  his  mode  of  managing 
his  lively  sons,  he  is  just  the  man  to  train  them 
for  a  life  under  such  conditions,  and  thus  do  his 
part  towards  ushering  in  the  glorious  day  he  paints. 

In  the  fair  daughter,  younger  than  her  brothers, 
scarcelv  less  interest  centers.  I  saw  her  but  a  few 
moments,  but  they  were  enough  to  convince  me 
that,  while  her  brothers  are  small  bundles  of  con- 
densed action,  she  is  a  little  package  of  tranquillity, 
just  the  article  needed  in  the  other  end  of  the  bal- 
ance. The  fourth  child  is  a  son,  about  three  years 
old  at  the  present  date. 

Hubert  Howe  Bancroft  is  a  native  of  Ohio,  and 


•J 


I 


CALIFORNIA'S  GREAT  HISTORIAN. 


95 


adds  iinothcr  name  to  her  list  of  emiuout  men. 
Next  to  California,  that  State  should  feel  honored 
in  him,  and  take  interest  in  his  great  work.  He 
was  born  in  Granville,  May  5,  1832,  and  is  now 
fifty-five  years  of  age.  Mr.  Bancroft  is  a  person  of 
medium  height,  rather  heavy  set,  broad  chested, 
with  square  shoulders,  w'-ich  incline  forward 
slightly,  the  result,  no  doubt,  of  years  of  work 
with  the  pen.  He  has  a  large  head,  thick,  iron- 
gray  hair,  dark  eyes,  and  a  Southern  complexion. 
His  manner  is  frank  and  kindly.  He  impresses  a 
stranger  as  a  man  of  honest  purpose,  and  great 
decision  of  character.  The  sum  of  his  school  edu- 
cation was  obtained  in  the  district  schools  of  Ohio 
before  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age. 

At  that  period  Mr.  Bancroft  left  home,  going  to 
Buffalo,  where  he  was  employed  in  a  book-store 
owned  by  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  George  H.  Derby, 
Here,  for  some  reason,  he  failed  of  the  advantage 
he  anticipated,  and  closed  his  engagement  at  the 
end  of  a  year,  A  portion  of  his  journey  to  Buffalo 
was  made  on  the  Ohio  Canal.  Being  rich,  not  in 
this  world's  goods,  but  in  having  an  uncle  who  was 
the  captain  of  a  boat  on  that  ancient  water-way,  he 
proposed  to  ride  one  of  the  horses  attached  theretol 
to  the  city  of  Cleveland,  in  payment  for  his  fare. 
His  uncle  accepted  the  offer,  and  the  future  histo- 
rian rode  into  the  beautiful  Forest  City  in  the  ca- 
pacity of  a  canal-boy.    Mr.  Bancroft  mentioned  this 


!  'm 


if  It"  ■ 


I    'ML' 


i;  :;i^!;i 


ifti? 


i   i!;' 


96 


CALIFORNIA. 


<  I  i  1 1 


;ii 


lliifi! 


circumstance  as  an  amusing  experience  of  his  youth, 
rather  than  otherwise.  I  wondered  at  the  moment 
if,  in  relating  it,  he  thought  at  all  of  the  second 
martyr  President,  the  beginning  of  whose  path  to 
eminence  also  ran  along  the  brink  of  that  canal. 

Leaving  Buffalo  Mr.  Bancroft  laid  his  course 
for  the  Pacific  Coast,  via  Cape  Horn,  being  intrusted 
by  Mr.  Derby  with  an  invoice  of  books  and  sta- 
tionery with  which  to  open  the  book-trade  in  the 
citv  of  San  Francisco.  Months  were  consumed  in 
making  the  passage,  and  before  he  reached  the 
Golden  Gate  Mr.  Derby  had  died;  and  upon  his 
landing  an  order  met  him  to  re-ship  the  goods  to 
Buffalo.  He,  however,  made  a  fortunate  sale  of 
them  instead,  and  remitted  the  proceeds  to  Mrs. 
Derby,  thereby  much  improvinc^  her  financial  con- 
dition. 

As  early  as  1856  Mr.  Bancroft  had  not  only  be- 
come known  on  the  coast  for  his  habits  of  industry 
and  economv,  but  liad  accumulated  means  to  found 
a  book-store  of  his  own  in  San  Francisco.  Twenty- 
five  years  later  the  establishment  was  one  of  the 
first  of  its  kind  in  the  world.  About  this  time  his 
grand  history  project  began  to  take  serious  shape 
in  his  mind.  Repeatedly  during  his  residence  on 
the  coast,  had  his  attention  been  drawn  to  the  fact 
that  important  material  for  a  true  history  of  Cali- 
fornia was  daily  losing  beyond  recovery.  He  re- 
solved to  take  steps  to  preserve  it.     Immediately  he 


iMHiJmm 


CALIFORNIA'S  GREAT  HISTORIAN. 


97 


began  to  collect  books,  pamphlets,  letters,  and  docu- 
ments, pertaining  thereto.  By  degrees  the  field  of 
these  labors  widened,  until  it  embraced  the  entire 
western  half  of  the  continent,  from  the  Rocky- 
Mountains  to  the  great  ocean ;  from  Alaska  to  Pan- 
ama, including  Central  America  and  Mexico. 

In  pursuance  of  his  purpose  now,  he  not  only 
visited  the  eastern  part  of  the  Continent,  but  made 
several  journeys  to  Europe,  each  trip  adding  price- 
less material  to  his  collection.  During  1868,  with 
twelve  thousand  volumes  of  these  treasures  on  hand, 
gathered  at  an  immense  cost,  he  conceived  the  idea 
of  giving  them  to  the  world  in  the  form  of  one 
continuous,  carefully  written  history.  But  the  ques- 
tion was:  Could  he  accomplish  such  a  feat?  The 
task  involved  an  unflinching  purpose,  years  of  unre- 
mitting toil,  the  outlay  of  a  fortune,  and  the  pos- 
session of  fine  literary  ability.  Did  he  possess  that? 
was  another  question.  Undismayed  by  this  dread 
presentation  of  the  case,  he  determined  to  under- 
take the  prodigious  work. 

Accordingly,  releasing  himself  from  the  burden 
of  business  in  his  book-store,  he  installed  his 
brother,  Mr.  A.  L.  Bancroft,  manager-in  chief  of 
the  establishment;  and,  engaging  a  score  of  assist- 
ants, began  arranging  his  material  in  the  fourth 
story  of  their  building.  His  first  step  was  to  care- 
fully index  the  vast  collection,  just  as  an  author 
would  index  the  subjects  in  his  book.   Thus  his  task 


ir ' 


.  ,  '  i.    -.1 


t-:-<r^— -1* 


1.1     I. .. 


Ill  ■!  Il'l 

4'  t% 


■       ':.;>l 


Piilitl 


1  itiiii 


98 


CALIFORNIA. 


was  at  once  greatly  facilitated.  This  work  occupied 
an  average  of  six  persons  ten  years,  and  cost  up- 
wards of  eighty  thousand  dollars. 

Meanwhile  another  set  of  scribes,  taking  these 
indexes,  abstracted  from  them  the  information  de- 
sired in  reference  to  any  given  part  of  the  Terri- 
tory. This  was  known  as  the  "  rough  material." 
Next,  a  third  class  of  writers,  better  qualified,  elab- 
orated this  matter  into  proper  historical  form,  and 
submitted  the  result  to  Mr.  Bancroft,  who  carefuUv 
revised  the  work,  rewriting  such  portions  as  he 
chose.  Sometimes,  however,  beginning  back  with 
the  indexes,  he  himself  wrote  out  important  por- 
tions entirely. 

During  all  this  time  the  collection  of  books, 
letters,  newspapers,  maps  of  the  coast,  and  of  the 
country,  and  annals  in  manuscript,  went  on,  until 
over  thirty  thousand  volumes  were  accumulated,  the 
whole  constituting  a  library  unapproachable  as  to 
value  in  this  country,  particularly  to  writers  on 
special  historical  themes,  and  it  related  to  an  area 
equal  to  one-twelfth  of  the  earth's  surface. 

In  addition  to  this,  his  deputies  had  long  been 
busy,  all  over  this  territory,  taking  notes  from  aged 
pioneers,  military  men,  statesmen,  and  surviving 
members  of  old  Spanish  families,  all  of  whom,  with 
the  antecedent  Indian  tribes,  had  helped  make  its 
history.  The  result  of  this  movement  was  thou- 
sands of  manuscripts  filled  with  the  deeds  or  remi- 


CALIFORNIA'S  GREAT  HISTORIAN. 


99 


niscencfs  of  ns  many  living  people,  all  of  it  abso- 
sutely  original,  and  nowhere  else  existi;:g. 

At  the  same  time  another  force  was  busy  copying 
papers  in  county,  state,  and  national  archives.  Nor 
was  this  all.  Interested  persons  all  over  the  land 
contributed  piles  of  original  documents,  swelling 
the  mass  to  vast  proportions.  Finally  this  material 
was  bound  in  many  folio  volumes,  inestimable  in 
value  as  sounu's  of  reference. 

Twenty-five  years  in  all  had  now  been  devoted 
to  this  work  of  aggregation.  But  in  an  hour  fire 
might  reduce  the  treasure  to  ashes.  To  save  it 
from  such  a  fate,  Mr.  Bancroft  determined  to  place 
over  it  a  shelter  absolutely  fire-proof.  The  time 
had  been  brought  down  to  1881.  Accordingly, 
during  that  year  he  erected,  far  out  on  Valencia 
Street  in  San  Francisco,  a  large,  two-story,  fire- 
proof repository,  and  therein,  in  orderly  arrange- 
ment, set  up  his  possessions.  This  building  with 
its  contents  forms  the  famous  Bancroft  Library, 
report  of  which  has  gone  so  far  abroad. 

All  this  was  the  munificent  preparation  for  what 
the  papers  have  termed  Mr.  Bancroft's  "  stupendous 
undertaking,"  namely,  the  writing  the  "  History  of 
the  Pacific  Coast  States  of  North  America."  But 
introductory  to  this,  and  according  to  a  plan  which 
shows  Mr.  Bancroft's  correct  judgment,  as  regards 
the  order  in  which  the  different  epochs  of  American 
history  should  be  presented,  was  to  be  published,  a 


"ii 


t<   urn 

r  m 


100 


CAIJb'OUNIA. 


"History  of  the  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  Coast 
States,"  in  five  volumes.  One  of  these  was  to  deal 
with  the  wild  tribes  of  the  entire  region,  and 
another  with  the  "Civilized  Nations  of  Mexico  and 
Central  America."  These  five  volumes  are  already 
issued.  After  them  comes  the  history  proper,  cov- 
ering the  extent  of  country  I  have  des^ignated,  and 
embraced  in  thirty  volumes. 

Closely  related  to  the  history,  but  more  effective, 
published  apart  from  it,  come  four  volumes,  entitled, 
first,  "California  Pastoral,"  being  an  account  of 
life  and  times  under  the  early  Catholic  missionaries; 
second,  "California  Inter  Pocula,"  or  life  during 
the  gold  mining  period;  and  third,  "Popular  Tri- 
bunals," or  the  acts  of  California  Vigilance  Com- 
mittees. Thus  the  complete  great  work  includes 
thirty-nine  volumes,  and  is  a  vast  repository,  packed 
from  cover  to  cover  with  facts  pertaining  to  the 
habits,  customs,  sorrows,  pleasures,  religions,  and 
achievements  of  the  races  which  have  successively 
held  sway  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  Mr.  Bancroft 
expects  the  year  1890  to  witness  the  completion  of 
his  task,  should  he  live  to  urge  forward  its  compo- 
sition and  j)nl)lieirtion. 

Mr.  Bancroft's  work  will  live  after  him.  As 
well  might  we  relegate  to  the  periods  which  pro- 
duced them  the  histories  of  Rollin,  D'Aubigne, 
Macaulay,  and  Prescott,  as  to  confine  this  gigantic 
record  of   past   deeds   and   events  to   the   present. 


1 


s 


pj 


m 


CALIFORNIA'S  GREAT  HISTORIAN. 


101 


No,  we  must  accord  it  I'fo  for  all  time.  There  will 
be,  however,  this  diKoronce  in  its  usofiilncss  The 
above  authors  are  road  by  thonsaiuls  upon  thousands 
of  tiie  common  people,  l)oeausi'  in  ycnvo^  and  time, 


Temia2al,  or  Swee.t-houae. 


and  subject  they  are  limited  to  narrow  bounds,  and 
cost  but  a  trifle.  But  from  its  very  size  and  expense 
the  "  Plistory  of  the  Pacific  States  of  North  Amer- 
ica" will  find  entrance  only  into  public  libraries  and 
the  book-cases  of  the  rich. 


?;,■:'!, 


102 


CALIFORNIA. 


Notwithstanding,  there  is  in  the  work  much  of 
interest  for  readers  old  and  young.  What  boy  or 
girl  in  all  the  Union  would  not  sit  entranced  over 
the  volume  on  the  wild  tribes  of  the  coast?  In 
some  parts  its  style  is  plain  even  to  homeliness,  but 
it  is  suited  to  the  subject,  and  allows  the  interest  to 
flag  not  for  a  moment.  In  other  portions  the  story 
runs  on  in  clear,  ringing,  picturesque  sentences. 
Savage  men  and  women  stand  before  the  reader, 
creatures  of  a  wonderfully  distinct  photography. 
One  lives  among  them;  sees  with  his  own  eyes  their 
homes,  children,  old  people;  goes  with  them  to 
weddings,  funerals,  and  wars;  is  interested,  amused, 
or  shocked,  according  to  the  circumstances.  Take, 
for  instance,  the  description  of  the  temescal,  or  sweat- 
house,  an  institution  common  to  many  of  the  tribes. 
Virtually  one  enters  the  strange  place,  feels  the 
effects  of  the  heat  and  steam,  enjoys  the  final  drowsi- 
ness and  comfort,  and  upon  emerging  from  the  pit 
wonders  not  at  all  that  the  vagabonds  of  the  tribes 
are  often  the  victims  of  some  pain  or  disease  which 
can  be  driven  out  of  them  only  by  a  thorough 
steaming  and  a  long,  sound  sleep;  nor  that  in  the 
Winter  these  ills  are  most  frequent. 

The  second  volume,  treating  of  the  civilized 
races  of  Mexico  and  Central  America,  is  a  narrative 
of  marvelous  life  and  doings.  Its  pages  are  equally 
captivating  for  the  cultured  or  untutored  reader. 
There  Spain  found  and  destroyed  "a  civilization  in 


CALIFORNIA'S  GREAT  HISTORIAN. 


103 


some  respects  greater  than  her  own."  There  she 
caused  rivers  of  innocent  human  blood  to  flow,  in 
the  name  of  religion  and  for  love  of  gold.  In  these 
two  volumes  are  depicted  every  phase  of  human 
nature,  from  the  reptile-eating  cave-dwellers  to  the 
enlightened  Maya-Quicha  people  of  the  southern 
table-lands.  To  the  last  line  their  history  is  a  tale 
which  holds  spell-bound  the  one  who  believes  that 
"every  thing  connected  with  man  deserves  man's 
most  careful  study," 

Mr.  Bancroft's  account  of  the  Spanish  conquest 
of  Peru  is  the  most  clear  and  succinct  I  have  ever 
read.  One  finishes  the  chapters  with  a  well-defined 
idea  of  the  cause  and  the  manner  of  the  Incarial 
overthrow.  Sketched  to  the  life  are  the  mercenary 
men  who  conceived  and  accomplished  it.  Their 
motives,  their  insatiable  greed,  their  disregard  of 
human  life,  are  brought  out  into  noonday  light. 
A  mere  handful  of  starved,  insubordinate,  and  des- 
perate adventurers,  they  conquer,  when  at  the  zenith 
of  its  glory,  an  empire,  opulent  and  teeming  with 
people,  and  so  re-enact  the  r61e  of  Hernando  Cortez 
in  th(;  subjugation  of  Mexico. 

For  specialists  in  the  many  fields  of  literature, 
this  unequaled  history  will  prove  a  mine  of  wealth 
for  all  the  future  of  America.  Scarcely  a  question 
can  arise,  touching  the  race,  but  here  may  find 
something  to  the  point. 


i    ! 


*;! 


f"  I 


n 


•i  1 


.'i    .''iw 


^" 


i 


I 


in ! 


':''lj 


•11 


XVI. 
flH  III  ^ind  Shahi  Blew  Good. 


THE  six  weeks  rain-fall  which  drenched  the  soil 
of  Southern  California  during  February  and 
March  of  this  year,  1884,  will  long  be  remembered 
for  the  freshets  it  produced,  the  lives  it  cost,  and 
the  property  it  destroyed.  On  several  of  the  streams 
between  this  city  and  the  desert,  the  bridges  of  the 
Southern  Pacific  road  were  either  swept  away  or 
rendered  unsafe,  detaining  passengers  and  mails  for 
days  in  succession,  at  points  where  supplies  were 
difficult  to  obtain.  Buildings  and  stock  were  caught 
up  by  the  resistless  currents,  wrecking  the  former 
and  drowning  the  latter.  Acres  of  land  were  spir- 
ited away  to  the  ocean.  Many  kinds  of  business 
were  seriously  checked.  Invoices  of  Spring  goods 
dallied  on  the  desert.  Nearly  every  body  looked 
doleful  and  felt  Jipprehensive.  The  local  weather 
prophets  enhanced  the  trouble  by  foretelling  still 
heavier  floods  before  affairs  should  mend.  Invalids, 
scattered  in  all  directions,  confined  indoors  most  of 
the  time,  sighed  for  the  latitudes  where  frost  im- 
prisons the  streams  and  adorns  the  window-panes. 

But  after  awhile   the    wind  which  had  so  long 
blown  ill  changed  its  course,  and  as  generously  blew 
good.     The  earth,  hard  as  stone,  and  almost  impos- 
104 


AN  ILL  WIND  THAT  BLEW  GOOD. 


105 


sible  to  cultivate  when  dry,  had  been  wet  down  to 
an  unusual  depth,  and  could  now  be  worked  to 
advantage.  This  gave  a  fresh  impetus  to  tree- 
planting  all  over  the  broad  plain  stretching  between 
the  Sierra  Mad  re  and  the  sea,  south  and  east  of  the 
city.  The  citizens  of  Santa  Ana,  Orange,  Tustin, 
Westminster,  and  other  thriving  villages  dotting 
this  plain,  awoke  to  the  value  of  the  opportunity^ 
and  early  in  April  were  setting  trees.  Meeting 
a  tourist  from  that  section  of  the  country  this 
morning,  I  inquired  what  varieties  of  trees  were 
planted  in  largest  numbers. 

"The  orange,  lemon,  lime,  olive,  apricot,  pear, 
and  others,  for  fruit;  the  pepper  and  eucalyptus,  for 
shade  and  ornament,"  he  replied.  "The  nursery- 
men," he  continued,  "are  paying  the  owners  of 
teams  ten  dollars  per  day  for  drawing  trees  to  pur- 
chasers. On  my  way  up  to  the  city  I  rode  some 
distance  with  one  of  these  teamsters,  who  had  on 
his  wagon  ten  thousand  apricot,  pear,  and  oHve  trees 
for  horticulturists  at  some  point.  He  said  he  dis- 
tributed nearly  that  number  daily.  And  how  they 
take  hold  and  grow!  Hardly  is  the  ground  well 
packed  around  the  roots  ere  they  show  themselves 
at  home  in  the  new  situation." 

In  one's  rambles  on  this  plain,  one  hears  not  a 
little  about  the  change  of  climate  likely  to  result 
from  this  lavish  extension  of  orchards,  groves,  and 
vineyards.     There  are  those  who  think  the  move- 


^ 


lou 


CALIFORNIA. 


iilfl:^''"'' 


m 


I 


ment  \\\\],  in  time,  materially  shorten  the  long  sum- 
mer drought  of  past  days  by  bringing  down  showers 
of  rain.  Every  tree,  it  is  contended,  set  in  the 
valleys  or  on  the  hill-sides  becomes  a  leafy  reservoir 
for  the  storage  of  water.  Not  only  so,  it  performs 
a  double  duty  in  the  case.  The  roots  retain  the 
water  which  otherwise  would  flow  away,  especially 
in  sloping  situations;  while  the  top,  a  manifold 
canopy  sheltering  the  ground,  prevents  its  evapora- 
tion from  about  the  roots.  At  the  same  time  the 
leaves,  from  their  million  mouths,  pour  into  the  air, 
of  a  sunny  day,  an  invisible  cloud  of  moisture. 
With  millions  of  trees  united  in  the  beautiful  work, 
the  atmosphere  will  be  charged  with  vapor,  which, 
condensing  in  the  night,  or  by  coming  in  'contact 
with  a  body  of  cooler  air,  will  descend  in  showers, 
blessing  the  earth. 

Possibly  the  thousands  of  acres  of  trees  already 
well-grown  on  this  vast  prairie,  where  once  scarce 
a  tree  was  to  be  seen,  may  account  for  the  several 
copious  showers  which  fell  in  the  Summer  of  that 
year.  But  whether  tree-planting  shall  or  shall  not 
greatly  affect  the  climate  in  Los  Angeles  and  San 
Diego  counties,  the  work  is  certain  to  produce  busi- 
ness, fill  the  local  markets  with  luscious  fruits,  and 
render  very  picturesque  the  country.  Therefore 
may  the  desirable  industry  flourish.     " 

If  the  reader  will  glance  at  a  well-executed  map 
of  these  counties,   he   will   find   a  branch   of  the 


DOWNEY. 


107 


1  ;  ii:!!",! 

P' 

;  i    ii!-i.    '1 

J 

■;     '  ■ '  ^  '    ,   '  i 

H 

Southern  Piuific  Railway  extending  from  Los  An- 
geles south-eastwardly  to  the  bright  little  village  of 
Santa  Ana,  at  present  the  terminus  of  the  road. 
The  distance  is  forty-two  miles.  The  route  lies 
through  the  rich  plain  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking,  and  wliieh  was  once  a  part  of  the  cele- 
brated San  Joaquin  rancho.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
productive  portions  of  semi-tropic  Califbriiia.  Be- 
sides the  towns  I  have  already  mentioned,  those  of 
Downey,  Norwalk,  and  Anaheim,  with  their  exten- 
sive orchards  and  vineyards,  grace  leagues  of  coun- 
try along  the  way.  From  the  window  of  my  room 
on  this  hill-top  I  can  trace  the  location  of  some  of 
these  places,  as  I  look  down  the  Los  Angeles  Val- 
ley toward  the  sea.  Since  this  is  a  bright  morning, 
suppose  we  step  aboard  the  cars,  take  a  run  through 
the  fine  district,  and  spend  the  night  at  Santa  Ana. 
As  we  speed  along  you  notice  that  all  manner 
of  fruits  are  cultivated — oranges,  lemons,  olives, 
apricots,  apples,  grapes,  figs,  bananas,  English  wal- 
nuts, and  many  others. 


Ilk 


DOWNEY. 

At  Downey,  named  for  a  recent  governor  of 
California,  and  twelve  miles  out,  we  come  to  a 
community  of  several  hundred  inhabitants.  The 
place  is  noted  for  the  cultivation  of  figs  and  grapes. 
At  an  exhibit  of  county  fruits,  held  in  Los  Angeles 
in  October,  my  attention  was  drawn  to  a  magnificent 


108 


CALIFORNIA. 


1 

\ 

J 

'     i! 

g 

1    1 

; 

i^l 

1 

i^B 

il.       i 

&m 

a« 

MMta. 

display  of  Malaga  grapes  from  here.  The  weight 
of  nearly  every  cluster  approximated  to  four  pounds. 
Beside  these,  its  roots  firmly  imbedded  in  a  tub 
of  sand,  was  stationed  a  vigorous  Malaga  vine, 
weighed  down  with  enormous  bunches.  How  the 
slender  branches  could  sustain  such  a  burden  through 


The  Fig. 

the  season  of  growth  was  a  wonder.  Close  at  hand 
lay  small  heaps  of  nine  other  varieties,  very  tempt- 
ing to  sight  and  taste,  among  them  the  Muscat,  Sul- 
tana, Sweetwater,  and  Flaming  Tokay. 

But  of  greater  interest  to  me  than  theae  was  an 
array  of  large,  ricdi  figs,  fresh  from  the  trees,  four 
varieties,  the  White  Smyrna,  Brown  Turkish,  Plym- 
outh Rock — chickens,  by  no  means — and  the  New 
Pacific,  a  fig  remarkable  for  its  fine  flavor  and  quick- 


DOWNEY. 


109 


drying  quality.     The  Wl,!.     c 

longest  fe„„Ji„3,;J^"j  Smyrna  having  been 

Persedeit.hower.TXrr'r-^'''-- 
'ransportation  „„  better  than  df    ''      ^  ''"«"'^ 

Pi*ed  hero,  they  are  ^riptirr^^'-""'' 
»-e  -vory  than  are  gree/t„raC         "  """"'^ 

keepers  often  „„re  them  in  A  '"  "'^'  ''"'''^ 

course,  to  p  ::„e  t  r   "'"'  ^'""^^  "^  *»'^<-.  of 

«■•"  -„r.     T  e  ;  ' '    T""  *'""•'"'"'''  »'■  *ey 
J-ne  hg  produces  the  «»^n„,i  „ 

planting,  and   bears  at  the  ^""'  '^°" 

a»<i   ripe  fruit,     St  t   \        ™'  """=  ''""'  «-» 

thrives  ]i,.e  the  wilwi,f7  "'""°""  "^^  ''^^ 
■•ligation.     There  are  :    I    I  ■^"''"""^  "  ^^q-ires 

«ve  hundred  tries  rSt"-""'"'"^'"-'^- 
F-h  iig.  are  very  cheap  1  r  "?'  "'  ^°--^- 
•Iried  fruit  retaii/at  twe'tv  fi  ^'''"'  '""  ""^ 

Conntless  private  g  r^  t  "  ":'■'  "'^  P-^- 

-tainoneormore'flXrof:    'T'^"''''""'''^ 
Before  continuing 'ourjourn      7     •""'■" 

a"entiontoagent,eln:,::2/™\'''™" 

""-ing  bananas  on  the  foot  hi.r  '"'"""^  <"" 

or  30  from  Us  Angeles     Tb'  T"  "■"'  ""^« 

'o  whom  the  citv  S  "  ^'-  ^-  ^^-  ^<'»-. 

of  last  Winte   '    rrr"'  *""^  "'^  «-'  «ood 

— pott^f  Tnte-  ::::,t--'  -^ 

^^        "  geneial  appearance 


ill 


!ll 


\,t        i 


no 


CALIFORNIA. 


Mr.  Potts  closely  resembles  the  picture  of  old  Father 
Time  in  the  ancient  Webster  spelling-book.  He 
has  a  short,  slight  figure,  iron-gray  hair,  a  small 
face,  a  sharp  chin,  and  an  exceedingly  attenuated 
voice.  He  speaks  rapidly  and  nervously.  His 
manner  partakes  of  the  searching  investigative 
kind.  Eq?Mpped  with  hour-glass  and  scythe  he 
would  readily  be  mistaken  for  the  original  of  the 
spelling-book  illustration. 

Mr.  Potts  came  to  Los  Angeles  trom  somewhere 
in  the  East,  in  the  ever-memorable  year  of  1849, 
an  enthusiast,  not  in  gold-hunting,  but  in  fruit- 
culture,  as  he  himselt  told  me.  Having  long  been 
a  close  observer  of  the  laws  which  operate  in  the 
domain  of  the  atmosphere,  he  some  time  before  it 
occurred,  predicted  the  very  unusual  rain-fall  of  last 
Winter,  adding  that  it  would  be  attended  with  dis- 
aster and  heavy  loss.  The  fulfillment  of  the  pre- 
diction secured  him  his  title. 

For  four  years  past  Mr.  Potts  has  paid  consider- 
able attention  to  raising  bananas  on  his  farm  among 
the  foot-hills.  He  asserts  that  of  his  three  hundred 
and  fifty  trees,  from  twelve  to  fourteen  feet  in 
height,  not  one  has  ever  been  touched  by  frost. 
During  the  year  1883  these  trees  were  laden  with 
the  delicious  fruit  at  every  stage  of  growth,  and  re- 
quiring some  nine  months  for  its  perfection.  Some 
of  this  fruit  hung  on  the  trees  unharmed  during  the 
Winter  of  1883-84,  one  of  the  most  trying,  for  cold, 


A'.'^.ii'ii^iVii'i'iiiBm-iiin 


r^-iT 


ANAHEIM. 


Ill 


ever  known  here.     This  is  regarded  as  conclusive 

evidence  of  the  safety  of  tender  fruits  growing  on 

elevated  situations  near  Los  Angeles.     Mr.  Potts 

irrigates  a  portion  of  his    trees    once    during   the 

season,  and  others  not  at  all.    Their  position  decides 

the   question,  I   suppose.     This  gentleman  says  he 

was  present,  over  thirty  years  ago,  when  Mr.  William 

Wolfskin  planted  his  famous  orange  orchard,  a  spot 

which  few  visitors  to  Los  Angeles  fail  to  see,  and 

avers  that  not  once  since  then  has  there  been  frost 

sufficient   in    Southern  California    to    injure    large 

orange  trees. 

ANAHEIM.       • 

Two  things  give  Anaheim,  our  next  point  on 
the  road,  prominence  in  the  country  and  the  news- 
papers. These  are  its  wineries  and  ostrich  farm. 
The  rearing  of  ostriches  being  a  rare  undertaking 
in  America,  these  birds  excite  much  curiosity  on 
the  part  of  visitors  to  the  Pacific  Coast.  The 
ostriches  are  farmed  about  seven  miles  from  the 
village,  and  at  present  number  forty  or  more.  I 
have  not  seen  them,  but  have  been  told  that  about 
half  of  them  are  full  grown,  and  measure,  from  the 
ground  to  the  top  of  the  back,  from  eight  to  nine 
feet.  The  ostrich  is  a  timid  fowl,  but  the  males 
when  irritated  are  disposed  to  be  violent,  towards 
their  mates,  and  towards  men  and  animals.  It  is 
reported  that  even  their  former  careful  and  humane 
superintendent,  Dr.  Sketchley,  occasionally  became 


I    i 


1 


ANAHEIM. 


113 


the  object  of  their  wrath  at  Anaheim ;  and,  also,  that 
one  of  the  binls,  a  Hercules  for  strength,  becoming 
enraged  at  his  mate  not  long  ago,  raised  one  of  his 
powerful  legs  and  dealt  he!'  a  terrific  blow,  when 
qniekly  she  was  no  more.  I  will  not  vouch  for  the 
truth  of  these  statements.  Undoubtedly  the  African 
bird  holds,  as  many  men  do,  that  he  has  a  right  to 
strike  his  wife.  Dr.  Sketchley,  no  longer  at 
Annheim,  but  now  actively  engaged  in  founding  a 
zoological  garden,  on  a  scale  of  munificence  in 
keeping  with  every  thing  Californian,  a  few  miles 
north-west  of  Los  Angeles,  among  the  foot-hills  of 
the  San  Fernando  Mountains,  can  answer  for  him- 
self as  to  the  treatment  he  received  from  his  Ana- 
heim wards.  Here  also  he  is  planting  a  colony  of 
these  birds  of  elegant  plumage. 

Like  the  eucalyptus  and  the  pepper  tree,  the  os- 
trich loses  its  attractiveness  as  age  creeps  on.  Hence 
the  juvenile  members  of  the  Anaheim  family  are  most 
in  favor  with  visitors.  Some  of  them  are  now 
about  the  size  of  full-grown  turkeys,  and  are  pro- 
spectively very  valuable  on  account  of  their  feathers. 
The  first  plucking  takes  ^^^ace  when  the  bird  is 
about  a  year  and  a  half  old. 

The  eyes  of  the  ostrich  are  large  and  very  keen, 
enabling  them  to  discern  objects  at  a  great  distance. 
Their  hearing  also  is  remarkably  acute.  I  have 
been  told  that  the  sight  of  a  horse  iHspires  them 
with   great   terror,   and   that  a  gentleman   recently 


m 


"W«"P"  > 


114 


CALIFORNIA. 


sjijii™ j 2,  :  J,  I 


IJ 


rode  one  of  thopo  nninials  within  view  from  their 
inclosurc  at  Anaheim,  when  the  birds,  catching 
sight  of  him,  were  thrown  into  snch  fright  that  the 
rider  was  forced  to  remove  him.  Their  cry  is  loud 
and  piercing,  and  may  be  heard  at  a  great  distance. 
"  AVhen  contending  with  a  foe  they  hiss  vigorously, 
thus  publishing  their  relationship  to  the  goose." 

The  feathers  of  the  ostrich  are  taken  chiefly 
from  the  tail  and  wings.  Those  of  the  males  are 
either  white  or  brown,  tipped  with  black,  and  are 
remarkable  for  their  length.  It  is  for  these  long 
plumes  mainly  that  the  ostrich  is  farmed.  The 
feathers  of  the  female  are  dark  brown,  mingled 
with  white.  For  centuries  past  the  handsome 
plumes  of  the  African  ostrich  have  been  worn  by 
men  as  insignia  of  their  rank.  The  badge  of  the 
present  Prince  of  Wales  is  three  white  ostrich 
feathers.  When  John,  of  Luxembourg,  was  de- 
feated at  Crecy,  by  Edward  the  Black  Prince,  he 
wore  in  his  casque  one  of  their  long,  white  plumes. 
And,  even  prior  to  that  date,  they  distinguished  the 
house  of  Plantaganet.  The  wearing  of  three  feath- 
ers, grouped,  in  the  coronet  of  an  English  prince 
is  said  to  have  been  introduced  by  Henry,  eldest 
son  of  James  the  First.  Certain  young  women  of 
America  must  have  adopted  the  fashion,  for,  seated 
in  front  of  me  at  church  last  Sunday  morning,  was 
a  young  lady  with  three  white  plumes  set  against 
the  front  of  her  hat,  its  only  trimming. 


SANTA  ANA. 


116 


Anaheim  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  recent  settle- 
ments in  Southern  Californ  a,  having  been  estab- 
lished nearly  twenty-five  years  ago.  It  was  settled 
by  a  colony  of  Germans,  who  planted  extensively 
the  "wine  grape,"  introduced  by  the  Spanish  niis- 
sif^'aries.  In  a  few  years  they  were  freely  engaged 
in  the  manufacture  of  wine.  They  made  money  at 
the  baleful  business,  and  laid  it  up,  as  is  so  natural 
for  the  frugal  Teuton  to  do,  instead  of  expending  it 
in  making  their  surroundings  beautiful.  And,  now, 
in  their  plain  and  exteriorly  comfortable  homes, 
they  appear  to  be  taking  their  ease.  A  few  of  the 
residences  are  very  pretty.  The  place  has  a  drowsy, 
Autumnish  look.  No  new  buildings  are  going  up. 
There  is  no  activity  in  the  streets.  The  spirit  of 
enterprise  seems  to  have  taken  its  flight,  if  it  were 
ever  here.  Anaheim  is  at  the  midnight  of  a  long 
sleep.  When  it  wakens  it  will  find  that  the  enter- 
prising villages  of  Orange,  Tustin,  and  Santa  Ana 
have  far  outstripped  it  in  the  race  vor  improvements. 

Leaving  here  we  pass  oh  to  the  last-named  town, 
one  of  five  charming  villages  occupying  the  valley 
of  the  Santa  Ana  Kiver,  seven  miles  south-east  of 
Anaheim,  two-and-a-half  miles  south  of  Orange, 
with  Tustin  on  the  east,  and  Westminster,  a  neat, 
thriving  town,  founded  by  a  colony  of  enterprising 
temperance  people,  who  at  the  beginning  forever 
barred  out  the  saloon  by  proviso  in  their  act  of 
incorporation,  lying  due  south  of  it. 


W4 


1:^ 


!i 


116 


CALIFORNIA. 


Tiistin  and  Orange  are  little  more  than  col- 
lections of  beautiful  homes,  with  a  post-office, 
grocery,  hotel,  store,  church,  and  school-house 
located  at  the  center,  while  the  country  adjacent 
presents  a  net-work  of  vineyards  and  orchards 
of  all  sorts.  Access  to  these  places  is  by  carriage. 
Every  rod  of  the  ride  is  delightful.  Long  lines  of 
eucalypti,  pepper,  and  cypress  trees  grace  the 
road  on  either  side.  The  gates  of  the  pretty 
yards  stand  invitingly  open.  The  hedges  are  trim 
and  green.  Flowers  brighten  the  closely  cut  lawns. 
The  cottages,  of  a  dozen  chaste  styles,  look  cool 
and  inviting  on  this  warm  afternoon.  Every  thing 
betokens  prosperity.  Still,  so  recently  were  none 
of  these  things  here,  that  their  existence  seems  like 
the  work  of  magic. 

Santa  Ana,  the  largest  of  the  group,  contains 
about  two  thousand  five  linndred  people.  Eleven 
years  ago  its  now  vine-clad  site  was  a  treeless  waste, 
a  mere  pasture  for  flocks.  Its  inhabitants  were 
principally  Mexicans,  and  widely  scattered.  But 
its  climate  had  become  known  as  one  in  which  con- 
sumptives were  almost  sure  to  recover.  Word  to 
that  effect  reached  Minnesota  and  other  North- 
western States.  Hither  from  them  came  numbers 
of  that  class  of  invalids.  Few  of  them  could  come 
alone.  So  with  them  came  the  strong  and  well, 
bringing  some  money,  indomitnble  energy,  and 
power  to  scheme  and  drive.     Mr.  J.  W.  Layman, 


(D 
(D 


^ 

at 


m 


^■1 

^^^^^^B    ,t 

t^^^^^^H 

^lii^H  '' 

||    ^ 

118 


CALIFORNIA. 


h^. 


of  Minneapolis,  one  of  the  first  on  the  ground,  built 
a  hotel.  Then  followed  church  and  school-house. 
Soon  up  sprang  lodges  of  Masons,  Odd  Fellows, 
Good  Templars,  a  Band  of  Hope,  and  a  Post  of  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  all  wide-awake  in 
their  legitimate  fields  of  activity,  and  now  possess- 
ing their  own  inviting  halls  for  meetings.  Trans- 
planting their  love  of  refinement  into  the  n&w  soil, 
the  citizens  foster  art  in  several  of  its  departments, 
and  pay  liberal  stipends  to  teachers. 

From  the  Santa  Ana  River  and  the  two  strata, 
sheets,  or  lakes  of  water  which  underlie  the  entire 
plain,  one  at  a  depth  of  sixty,  the  other  at  a  dis- 
tance of  three  hundred  feet,  is  derived  the  water 
supply  for  this  coterie  of  settlements.  For  domestic 
purposes  the  fluid  is  obtained  through  artesian 
wells,  sunk  to  the  second  stratum.  To  sum  up, 
the  three  strong  points  of  the  region  are:  An 
almost  faultless  climate,  a  wonderfully  fertile  soil, 
an  inexhaustible  supply  of  pure,  cold  water. 

Eight  miles  south  of  Santa  Ana  lies  Newport 
Bay,  the  most  accessible  sea-side  resort.  In  full 
view  from  it,  and  near  enough  for  an  enjoyable  sail, 
are  the  islands  of  San  Clemente  and  Santa  Catalina, 
notable  for  their  scenic  charms  and  historical  asso- 
ciations. 

Something  like  a  mile  below  Santa  Ana,  on 
property  belonging  to  one  Captain  West,  are  to  be 
seen  the  ruins  of  an  old  adobe  house,  which,  you 


SANTA  ANA. 


119 


will  be  told,  was  the  birthplace  of  the  famous 
Mexican  General  and  President,  Santa  Anna.  But 
history  robs  the  place  of  this  honor.  A  friend,  fa- 
miliar with  every  p;ige  of  the  man's  career,  informs 
me  that  the  Mexican  President  never  saw  California. 
Antonio  Lopez  was  a  native  of  the  State  oi  Jalapa, 
Mexico.  At  one  time  in  his  life  he  was  the  pro- 
prietor of  a  handsome  estate  in  that  republic,  which, 
out  of  gratitude  for  the  services  of  Sant  Anne,  he 
named  Santa  Anna.  There  being  other  men  in 
Mexico  of  the  name  of  Lopez,  he  in  time  came  to 
be  designated  as  Lopez  de  Santa  Anna;  and,  later, 
by  the  American  newspapers,  and  also  by  the  Amer- 
ican army  during  the  war  with  Mexico,  as  General, 
then  President  Santa  Anna.  To  this  river  and  val- 
ley  the  name  Santa  Ana  was  given  by  the  "Mis- 
sionary Fathers"  during  their  first  journey  from 
San  Diego  to  Monterey,  and  long  before  the  day 
of  Lopez,  of  Jalapa. 


% 


M 


XVII. 

P  SlNGULAF?  ^HAI^AGIPBI^. 


LAST  Tuesday  afternoon  it  was  arranged  by  the 
lovely  woman  to  whom  belongs  this  hill-top 
home,  that  I  should  next  day  accompany  her  on  a 
visit  to  a  floral  garden  lying  just  within  the  western 
limits  of  the  city,  and  of  which  one  Peter  Ramau, 
a  native  of  Hungary,  and  a  singular  specimen  of 
the  genus  homo,  is  the  proprietor.  The  day  proved 
a  delightful  one.  Overhead  nothing  but  blue;  in 
the  sunlight  an  indescribable  charm ;  dn  attraction 
which  fairly  drew  people  out  of  doors,  and  when 
out,  produced  in  them  a  feeling  of  happiness  and 
exultation.  In  no  other  spot  on  this  continent  have 
I  experienced  this  exhilarating  effect  of  the  sun- 
light. But  here  ordinarily  are  to  be  enjoyed  months 
of  such  days  every  year — days  when  you  are  very 
pl'iased,  and  hardly  know  why. 

Taking  a  main  street  car  to  the  Washington  Gar- 
dens, two  miles  from  the  center  of  town,  we  were 
within  twenty  minutes  walk  of  the  premises.  Both 
florists  and  their  grounds  are  plentiful  in  this  part 
<»f  the  country,  and  I  write  of  this  man  only  because 
he  is  an  odd  pattern  of  humanity,  after  which  few 
mortals  are  fashioned  in  any  land.      Such   persons 

seem  to   be  freaks  of   nature,    made   up   of   mis- 
120 


1<>> 


A  SINGULAR  CHARACTER. 


121 


matched  material,  an  assorted  lot,  deviations  from 
the  normal  plan,  people  remarkable  only  for  their 
eccentricities.  Occasionally  I  pass  such  persons  on 
the  street  here.  In  the  veins  of  most  of  them  flows 
the  blood  of  two  races,  and  sometimes  of  more. 
Usually  their  appearance  is  so  striking  that  one  is 
eager  to  see  them  again.  Not  a  few  of  them  are 
women.  I  call  to  mind  one  who  is  of  immediate 
French,  English,  and  Hawaiian  descent.  The  char- 
acteristics of  the  three  races  are  very  marked  in  her. 
Strange  vicissitudes  have  crowded  themselves  into 
her  life.  Born  on  the  Atlantic;  reared  and  edu- 
cated in  England;  connected  with  well-known  fam- 
ilies, both  in  that  country  and  France;  a  resident 
of  this  coast  for  forty  years;  several  times  the  pos- 
sessor of  great  wealth,  and  as  many  times  the 
subject  of  absolute  want,  she  has  yet,  under  all 
circumstances,  been  a  woman  of  influence,  and  of 
great  charity,  bestowed  often  upon  the  most  lowly. 
She  speaks  Spanish,  Hawaiian,  English,  and  some 
French.  There  are  enough  interesting  facts  con- 
nected with  her  history  to  fill  volumes. 

Peter  Ramau  met  us  at  the  rude  gate  ift  front 
of  his  home,  opened  it  politely,  and  inquired:  "Are 
you  tired,  ladies?" 

Mrs.  H — ,  who  had  made  several  visits  to  the 
place,  and  knew  the  man  quite  well,  replied :  "  It 
costs  your  friends  something  to  visit  yourself  and 
your  flowers,  Mr.  Ramau." 


6,  al-  m^ 


;t 


i 


,1    I  J  •  ^t-  t    t3 


1  '  i  v^t  ; 
I 


i  ..'. 


iiliil 


122 


CALIFORNIA. 


H!i| 


1 


Km*> 


"Yes;  an  J  I'm  so  much  obliged  to  them  for 
coming.  Rest  a  little  on  the  porch,  and  then  I  '11 
show  yoii  what  Madame  Nature  can  do  at  flower 
making." 

The  man  has  a  large  round  head,  is  broad- 
chested,  and  of  medium  height.  His  eyes  sparkle 
with  pleasure  when  he  smiles,  but  flash  like  flames 
when  he  is  angry,  or  some  unwelcome  thought  of 
the  past  flits  through  his  mind.  His  orain  seems 
to  be  crowded  with  strange  conceits  and  fancies.  A 
reference  to  the  beauty  of  his  flowers  is  sure  to 
cause  these  odd  notions  to  spring  into  the  queerest 
unions,  like  the  bits  of  glass  in  a  kaleidoscope. 
His  manner  is  kindly  and  his  disposition  humane. 
Religiously  he  is  a  ship  with  anchor  gone.  He 
loves  birds,  dogs,  and  flowers  passionately.  His 
wife  is  dead.  Two  grown  sons  constitute  the  human 
part  of  his  family. 

In  front  and  to  the  right  of  his  rambling  and 
desolate  adobe  house  lies  his  flower  garden,  a  par- 
allelogram containing  two  acres  or  less.  No  other 
florist  on  earth  ever  arranged  a  garden  spot  like 
that.  It  is  disarranged  like  the  owner's  brain,  and 
strange  to  say,  the  disorder  in  both  is  one  of  their 
chief  attractions.  Will  the  reader  try  to  imagine  a 
small  patch  of  anemones,  beautiful  beyond  the 
power  of  pen  to  describe,  springing  out  of  a  larger 
plat  of  verbenas,  dense,  gay  with  bloom?  Then 
think  of  more  anemones  waving  on  the  top  of  their 


A  /SINGULAR  CHARACTER. 


123 


long,  slender  stems,  among  thorny  rose  bushes  and 
woody  heliotrope ;  and  of  more  still,  crowded  by 
azure  forget-me-nots  and  French  pinks  of  every 
hue.  See  tulips  as  large  as  tea-cups,  single,  double, 
mottled,  striped,  ringed,  and  bordered,  with  a  dozen 
glorious  colors,  trying  to  get  the  upper  hand  of  fra- 
grant thyme  and  rank  geraniums.  Here,  they  are 
reaching  out  for  sunlight  from  under  small  orange 
trees;  there, from  amid  bushy  fuchsias. 

Bending  over  a  cluster  of  anemones,  simply 
matchless  for  the  delicacy,  variety,  and  brilliancy 
of  their  colors,  Mr.  Ramau  clasped  a  dozen  of  the 
perfect  cups  with  both  hands,  and  looking  up  in 
my  face,  said,  solemnly : 

"Do  you  know,  madam,  I  see  God  in  these.  I 
can  't  see  him  in  the  Bible.  If  God  were  to  tell 
me,  this  day,  that  in  a  year  I  must  die,  do  you 
know  what  I  would  do?" — tears  glistened  in  the 
man's  eyes — "  I  would  go  to  work  and  collect  every 
variety  of  anemone  under  heaven,  and  get  them  to 
blooming  in  my  ground.  Then  I  'd  watch  them  and 
admire  them  down  to  the  last  hour.  Ah!  madam, 
the  anemone  is  God's  flower.  Only  look !  "Where 
can  you  find  such  a  sight?" 

I  did  look,  and  could  myself  have  cried  over  the 
flowers.  They  seemed  almost  human,  almost  able 
to  think  and  love.  There  swayed  to-and-fro  splen- 
did cups  of  scarlet,  crimson,  maroon,  deep  red,  rich 
orange,  soft  pink,  and  delicate  straw-color,    cups  of 


)!'i' 


m 


4 


(  4  1 


124 


CALIFORNIA. 


blue,  cups  of  purple  and  yellow,  in  shades  magnifi- 
cent. Some  were  single,  others  were  double.  As 
in  the  case  of  the  tulips,  the  man  had  taxed  his 
skill  to  the  uttermost  to  produce  these  marvelous 
tints. 

"Are  you  aware,  madam,"  he  continued,  "that 
it  is  the  multitude  and  variety  of  anemones  in  the 
gardens  of  Francis  Joseph,  of  Austria,  that  make 
them  so  famous?  My!  madam,  it  is  heaven  to 
walk  there.  There  you  can  see  beds  four  hundred 
feet  long,  containing  ever  variety  of  wind-flower  in 
the  world,  and  all  collected  for  the  enjoyment  of 
the  people." 

We  remarked :  "  If  is  a  pity  you  can  not  see 
God  in  the  Bible,  since  he  there  speaks  more  to  the 
purpose  on  some  points  than  in  flowers." 

"Never  mind;  I  see  him  in  these  gems  of  his. 
But  now  mark  what  man  can  do.  Of  anemones 
and  tulips  God  made  just  one  variety.  Man,  taking 
that  beginning,  has,  by  his  skill,  multiplied  the 
varieties  until  now  they  are  endl'^ss,  and  so  beauti- 
ful !  Madam,  that 's  man.  And  God  does  n't  even 
make  them  grow.  Man  does  that.  I  tell  you, 
there  's  a  deal  of  God  in  man." 

"  Man  is  evidently  your  God,"  we  replied.  "  Can 
you  make  a  plant  drink,  draw  sustenance  from  the 
soil,  extract  oxygen  from  the  air,  or  appropriate 
sunlight?"  Just  then  two  ladies  entered  the 
grounds,  and  he  turned  to  meet  them. 


A  SINGULAR  CHARACTER. 


125 


During  our  stay  we  had  observed  numerous  dogs 
lying  under  the  trees,  and  playing  about  the  house, 
and  on  his  return  we  inquired  if  he  owned  them. 

"Yes;  they  are  my  family.  Let  me  call  them 
together,  that  you  may  see  them.  I  have  seventeen 
in  all." 

He  was  then  patting  the  heads  of  two  that  were 
impatiently  pulling  at  his  garments,  just  as  I  have 
seen  peevish  children  tug  at  a  mother's  clothing. 
Now  he  began  calling,  whistling,  shouting,  for  his 
family.  "  Lucy !  Lucy !  Here,  Hongkong !  here, 
brave  fellow!  Hongkong,  madam,  is  a  Chinese 
dog.  Pat!  here  Pat!  Pat  is  from  green  Erin, 
ladies,    nd  does  n't  like  the  English." 

Thus  the  man  invited  and  coaxed  until  six  or 
eight  remarkable  specimens  of  the  canine  race  were 
wildly  racing  around  him,  leaping  upon  his  person, 
or  licking  his  hands,  and  all  apparently  anxious  to 
know  why  they  had  been  called  together. 

"  Now,  would  you  like  to  hear  them  sing?  Shall 
I  show  you  that  some  dogs  know  more  than  some 


men 


9" 


"  If  dogs  can  do  any  thing  more  human  than  to 
bark  and  bite,  we  should  be  interested  in  seeing 
them  do  it,"  we  answered. 

Thereupon,  his  eyes  lighting  up,  he  began  to 
hum  a  lively  tune.  Instantly  the  animals  broke 
into  canine  bass,  tenor,  alto,  soprano,  and  all  kept 
time  with  their  leader.     When  the  time  quickened, 


i  i 


i^ 


'bfc'3 


1 1  n  I 


I    1 
'I 

I   i  I.  >'; 


-i^ 


jjj 


126 


CALIFORNIA. 


they  leaped  upon  him,  sprang  into  the  air,  whined, 
barked,  howled.  Every  dog  was  in  a  perfect  frenzy, 
and  we  were  in  bedlam.  Hongkong,  a  splendid 
greyhound,  turned  his  back  toward  his  master, 
'Stretched  his  long  nose  out  toward  the  sky,  and 
struck  into  a  woeful,  piercing  cry,  followed  by  a 
low,  melancholy  wail.  The  creature's  heart  seemed 
broken.  He  was  telling  his  grief  to  the  invisible 
stars.  His  whole  aspect  betokened  the  deepest  sor- 
row. The  scene  and  the  noise  beggared  description. 
I  doubt  if  any  thing  like  it  could  be  witnessed 
outside  of  Southern  California,  where  scenes  and 
objects  unequaled  are  the  rule  rather  than  the  ex- 
ception. 

We  endured  the  horrible  din  f  ve  minutes,  perhaps 
ten,  and  then  entreated  the  strange  man  to  bring 
that  most  unique  of  all  vocal  concerts  to  a  close. 
But  the  dogs  were  proud  of  their  accomplishments, 
and  were  far  less  ready  to  end  the  performance  than 
to  begin  it.    By  degrees,  however,  quiet  was  restored. 

Then  said  the  Hungarian:  "Ladies,  until  re- 
cently I  have  kept  two  hundred  mocking-birds. 
The  food  of  the  happy  songsters  cost  me  ten  dollars 
every  week.  At  last  I  concluded  that  was  an  ex- 
pensive amusement  for  a  poor  man.  So  one  day  I 
opened  the  cages  and  gave  the  sweet  singers  their 
freedom.  You  see  a  few  cages  still,  with  here  and 
there  a  captive,  but  the  family  numbers  only  fifteen 
now.     I  love  nature,  and  could  n't  live  a  day  with- 


A  SINUULAIi  VHARAVTEIi 


127 


out  these  d()ji;.s,  and  birds,  nnd  anemones.  Like  that 
lovely  womiin" — meaning  Mrs.  H — ,  whose  snowy 
hair,  pleasant  eyes,  and  fair  complexion  attract  notice 
wherever  she  goes — "  they  show  me  how  God  loveg 
beautiful  things. 

"Madame,  I  never  go  to  bed  at  night  without 
taking  a  long,  loving  look  at  the  stars;  nor  rise  in 
the  morning  without  indulging  in  a  tender  chat  with 
the  beauties  in  my  gaiden.  I  tell  you,  if  I  l)ut 
had  money  to  buy  a  telescope,  I  'd  spend  the  nights 
in  taking  flights  among  the  stars,  and  during  the 
day  I  'd  grow  toward  heaven  among  ray  flowers. 

"Where  was  I  born?  In  Vodena,  Hungary,  a 
land  which  General  Fremont  declares  is  the  'most 
beautiful  under  the  sun,'  and  he  has  seen  it.  For 
several  years  I  was  au  officer  in  the  Austrian  army. 
In  1850  I  fled  to  this  country.  I  married  in  Iowa. 
My  wife  died  in  1869,  leaving  me  two  good  sous. 
Louie  lives  here  with  me.  My  real  name  you  must 
not  know.  The  Austrian  Government  has  searched 
for  me  all  over  tlttse  United  States." 

It  was  drawing  towards  sunset,  and  other  parties 
arriving,  Mrs.  H —  and  myseW  strolled  for  a  mo- 
ment through  the  trim  orange  orchard  in  the  rear  of 
the  house.  The  handsome  trees  were  laden  with 
fragrant  blossoms  and  ripe  fruit.  Returning,  we 
bade  the  father  good-bye  and  walked  away,  won- 
dering if  there  were  on  the  earth  another  mortal 
like  him. 


XVIII 
"She  Hatiyb  ^alipoi^mians." 


IN  his  book  entitled  "Three  Years  in  California," 
the  Rev.  Walter  Colton  talks  much  about  the 
"native  Califoruians,"  and  in  terms  which  leave 
most  readers  in  doubt  whether  he  means  the  Span- 
iards who  centuries  ago  in;/aded  California,  or  the 
Indian  races  whom  the  Spaniards  found  here.  Tiie 
latter  are  grouped  by  Mr.  Hubert  H.  Bancroft 
under  three  divisions,  called,  "The  Northern,  Cen- 
tral, and  Southern  Californians,"  These,  then,  were 
the  native  Califoruians  at  the  time  of  the  Spanish 
invasion,  but  not  thf  oitive  Californians  of  Mr. 
Colton's  book.  Fully  t  a'O  centuries  before  the  ac- 
quirement of  California  by  the  United  States,  the 
Spaniards  had  spread  over  Central  America,  Mex- 
ico, and  California — then  a  part  of  Mexico.  They 
not  only  subdued  the  Indian  tribes  or  nations 
inhabiting  these  countries,  but  married,  traded,  and 
lived  among  them,  and  had  possession  of  their  soil. 
Thus,  as  the  years  passed  on  and  on,  there  sprang 
up  a  nation  in  whose  veins  flowed  a  mixture  of 
Spanish  and  Indian  blood,  and  wliich  spoke  the 
128 


"Tm:  NATIVE  CALfFOIiNIANS." 


129 


Spanish  language,  corrupted,  in  many  instances,  by 
words  and  phrases  from  the  vocabularies  of  the 
vanquished  peoples. 

Also,  after  Mexico  threw  off  the  Spanish  yoke — 
some  years  prior  to  the  obtaining  of  California  by 
our  government — considerable  colonies  from  that 
country  settled  on  this  part  of  the  coast.  They, 
likewise,  v.ere  of  Spanish  and  native  origin,  and 
spoke  the  Spanish  tongue.  From  these  two  sources, 
then,  came  the  "native  Californians"  with  whom 
we  mingle  to-day,  and  of  Mr.  Colton's  acquaintance 
from  1846  to  1849.  In  other  words:  Before  they 
became  Americans,  by  our  acquiring  their  territory, 
they  were  Mexicans,  and  by  that  term  are  they 
very  generally  designated  here  to-day. ,  Tourists 
and  others  often  refer  to  them  as  Castilians,  using 
the  "pure  Castilian  tongue."  But  the  fact  is,  few, 
if  any  of  them,  ever  saw  Spain.  Much  less  were 
they  born  in  Castile.  However,  some  of  them  are 
of  full  Spanish  blood,  and  are  intelligent  and  meri- 
torious citizens.  Proverbial  for  politeness  and 
generosity,  often  too  confiding  for  their  own  inter- 
ests, and  always  ready  to  serve  a  friend  to  the 
uttermost,  they  of  course  soon  win  the  high  esteem 
of  the  English-speaking  Americans.  Almost  -with- 
out exception  they  are  members  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

On  the  contrary,  the  lower  orders  of  Mexicans 
are  exceedingly  illiterate,  but  their  condition  in  ihis 


'  'i'i 


tk 


|vl 


Li  • 

I  .1 


.1 


1       *  ! 

!      4 


r:i 


nnPT 


imm 


130 


CALIFORNIA. 


ttii 

■i 

ff' 

'. 

^H%i 

.>i 

HiHI 

i 

I'l 

flIUH 

(i 

'^ 

:*    Tn 

respect  is  said  to  be  due  not  so  much  to  incapacity 
as  to  neglect.  "  It  must  be  remembered,"  says  an 
educated  missionary  who  has  for  years  labored  among 
them,  "that  their  religion  is  the  Roman  Catholic, 
mingled  still,  in  too  many  cases,  with  traces  of  the 
ancient  worship  of  the  original  tribes.  Owing  to 
the  disposition  of  the  Romish  Church  to  temporize 
with  its  Indian  converts,  as  it  did  with  the  heathen 
nations  brought  into  its  fold  in  Constantine's  day, 
they  were  allowed  to  retain  certain  of  their  old 
observances.  From  that  day  to  this  the  Catholic 
Church  has  been  their  teacher,  and,  as  might  be 
expected,  the  lower  Mexican  element  of  our  popu- 
lation to-day,  is,  in  a  religious  sense,  elevated  not 
far  above  its  Indian  ancestors  prior  to  the  Spanish 
conquest." 

It  should  be  remembered  that  those  who  do 
break  away  from  the  Catholic  Church,  among  this 
class  of  Californians,  seem  to  take  most  cordially  to 
the  denominations  whose  forms  of  worship  differ 
most  from  the  showy  services  of  the  system  under 
which  they  have  grown  up.  Many  of  them  enter 
the  Presbyterian  fold,  where  they  find  neither  im- 
ages, crucifixes,  lighted  candles,  holy  fire,  holy  water, 
the  confessional,  nor  vestments  for  the  ministry. 

"I  can  not  express  to  you,"  said  an  intelligent 
Mexican,  who  had  been  reared  in  the  Romish 
Church,  but  who  is  now  a  Protestant,  "how  dis- 
tasteful to  me,  for  years,  was  the  sight  of  a  clergy- 


WWf>!atW'J«,f.--3!-»fT?il'J'.'l'^'  v'".'T-^i' 


I'l 


"  THE  NATIVE  CALIFORNIANS." 


131 


man  in  robes.  And  usually,  according  to  my 
observation,  when  a  Catholic  becomes  dissatisfied 
with  that  system,  he  flees  to  the  one  farthest  removed 
from  it,  or  to  none  at  all." 

At  three  points  in  Los  Angeles  County  Mexican 
Presbyterian  churches  have  been  established,  the 
stronger  organization  being  in  this  city.  No  Sun- 
day-schools are  conducted  as  yet,  but  dpy  schools 
are  in  progress  at  Anaheim  and  in  Los  Angeles. 

There  are  now  few  Mexican  families  living  in 
affluence  in  Southern  California.  Formerly  many 
were  rich  in  lands  and  herds,  but  upon  the  accession 
of  the  territory,  understanding  neither  our  language 
nor  our  laws,  they  were  soon  involved  in  endless 
litigations  with  rapacious  fortune-hunters  from  "tho 
States,"  who  had  managed,  by  one  means  or  another, 
to  secure  claims  upon  their  property.  Often  in 
these  cases  the  decisio.is  of  the  Federal  courts  were 
adverse  to  the  Mexicans,  how,  or  why,  the  latter  could 
not  tell,  and  in  an  incredibly  short  time  numbers 
found  themseh'es  face  to  face  with  poverty.  Unac- 
customed to  work,  few  were  able  to  retrieve  their 
condition,  and  in  their  straits  actually  boi  rowed 
money  of  the  robbers  at  a  ruinous  interest,  and 
mortgaged,  to  secure  its  payment;  whatever  prop- 
erty they  had  left.  Of  course  this  step  l.-stened  the 
end.  Finally,  realizing  that  they  were  no  match 
for  the  new  proprietors  of  the  .^oil,  many  became 
disheartened,  **  gave  themselves   .p  to  melancholy," 


'i'i 


■'ml 


X 


132 


CALIFORNIA. 


and  erelong  moved  into  narrow  homes  on  which 
there  were  no  mortgages. 

"When  I  first  came  here,  eleven  years  ago," 
said  a  lady  this  morning,  "there  were  Mexicans 
everywhere.  They  lounged  on  door-steps,  within 
the  presidios  of  their  homes,  in  front  of  the  shops 
and  stores,  and  along  the  country  roads.  Ap^jr- 
ently  without  a  care,  they  laughed,  chatted,  and 
danced.  Now,  I  meet  a  few  on  the  streets  as  I  go 
about  the  city,  but  their  number  seems  greatly 
diminished.  Doubtless  some  of  them  'lave  caught 
the  spirit  of  thrift  and  enterprise  possessed  by  our 
people,  and  have  adopted  habits  of  industry ;  but 
my  opinion  is  that  the  race  is  giving  way  before 
the  Americans,  whose  force  and  tenacity  of  life  are 
80  much  greater." 

The  Mexican  women  are  objects  of  great  inter- 
est to  me.  On  the  street  the  middle-aged  woman 
appears  almost  invariably  in  a  dress  of  black,  desti- 
tute of  trimmings.  The  skirt  is  made  of  straight 
breadths,  minus  any  thing  like  drapery.  Upon  her 
head,  framing  in  her  swarthy  face,  she  wears, 
usually,  a  plain  black  shawl  folded  cornerwise,  and 
held  together  under  her  chin  by  her  ungloved  hand. 
She  never  carries  parasol  or  umbrella,  evon  though 
the  Summer  sun,  holding  the  mercury  up  to  100° 
in  the  shade,  beats  down  upon  her  head,  co(;king 
her  ideas  and  wrinkling  her  skin,  T''<;tc  she  goes! 
hair,  eyes,  shawl,  dress,  the  color  oi  nip-^^-,  ?'i  her 


I 


I  ;i!i^ 


''TKF.  NATIVE  CA  rJFOHNTANS." 


133 


i 


face  no  brightness;  a  silent  figure,  destined  to  be 
left  behind  by  a  people  vv'hose  skill,  and  power,  and 
range  of  knowledge  simply  bewilder  her. 

Many  of  the  younger  women  sti'ongly  resemble 
eaeh  other,  with  their  black  hair,  dark  eyes,  south- 
ern complexion,  medium  height,  slender  figure,  and 
cheerful,  animated  countenance.  Tiiey  dress  in 
colors  and  with  taste,  and  walk  with  an  elastic  step. 
But,  a  few  years  hence,  should  they  follow  in  the 
course  of  their  moth(>i's,  their  forms  will  lose  their 
compactness  and  shapeliness.  Their  carriage  will 
become  slow  and  heavy.  American  gentlemen  fre- 
<piently  marry  daughters  of  the  better  families,  and 
our  young  women  occasionally  take  husbands  from 
among  the  educated  Mexicans.  So  far  as  I  have 
been  able  to  learn,  these  unions  prove  quite  as  happy 
as  if  formed  with  persons  of  the  same  race.  Hav- 
ing occasion  the  otiier  dtiy  to  call  at  the  city  home 
fS  Don  Pio  Pico,  the  last  Mexican  governor  of 
California,  I  found  there  a  niece  of  that  courtly 
gentleman,  from  Santa  Barbara.  She  was  a  lady- 
like, beautiful-looking  little  woman,  who  spoke 
English  nicely,  having  enjoyed  the  benefit  of  the 
American  schools  in  that  citv.  Some  time  before 
she  had  married  a  young  Mr.  Perkins,  from  the 
Vjast,  with  whom  she  seemed  to  be  much  pleased, 
and  I  coidd  see  no  reason  why  he  should  not  be 
])leased  with  her. 

On  another  occasion,  when  taking  a  walk  in  the 

12 


\i 


■■■■■IP 


134 


CALIFORNIA. 


outskirts  of  the  city,  after  a  hard  day's  work,  I  came 
upon  one  of  the  early  rural  homes  of  Los  Angeles. 
The  house  stood  far  back  from  the  street,  in  the 
raid;it  of  an  orange-grove,  and  was  a  many-roomed 
ado  ,  hniU,  out  this  way  and  that,  with  a  wide 
veranu.        nning   around   most  of   it,  and   all  the 


A  Rural  Home  in  Southern  California. 

apartments  opening  upon  that.  It  was  the  famous 
Wolfskin  residence.  William  Wolfskill  was  a  Ken- 
tuckian,  I  believe,  who  wandered  off  to  this  coast 
and  "built  this  house  over  fifty  years  ago."  He 
has  gone  to  his  rest,  but  the  place  is  occupied  by  a 
son,  whose  wife  is  a  beautiful  Spanish  woman.  En- 
tering the  open  gateway,  and   following  the  drive 


li'   '  M 


"  THE  NATIVE  CALIFORNIANS." 


135 


to  the  house,  I  foura  Mrs.  Wolfskill  seated  on 
the  veranda,  surrounded  by  a  half-dozen  children, 
all  evidently  of  Spanish  descent,  all  busy  doing 
something,  and  apparently  having  a  good  time. 
Rising  as  I  drew  near,  she  greeted  me  kindly,  using 
excellent  English.  I  have  seldom  seen  a  more 
attractive  woman.  A  wealth  of  dark  hair  was 
coiled  loosely  upon  the  top  of  her  head.  Her  man- 
ners were  charming,  and  I  noticed  that  her  toilet 
had  been  made  without  the  use  of  cosmetics,  a  fea- 
ture of  dress  which  seems  to  be  very  popular  among 
the  young  women  of  the  Spanish  tongue. 

Upon  my  inquiring  if  the  whole  group  of  little 
ones  were  hers,  she  replied:  "Ah,  no!  I  wish  they 
were.  It  is  the  sorrow  of  my  life  that  I  have  not 
such  a  family  of  children.  I  love  them,  and  find 
great  pleasure  in  caring  for  them.  The  babe  only 
is  mine."  After  chatting  n  little  time,  and  the 
evening  shadows  b'^ginning  to  fall,  I  bade  her  good- 
night, having  enjoyed  the  call.  Afterward  I  learned 
that  the  lady  represents  the  best  class  of  Spanish- 
speaking  people  on  the  coast.  For  that  reason  I 
mention  the  trifling  incident  of  my  call. 


■mj 


'  .  ■  1  '-3 


Ml 


<w 


,? 


'   '      Ml 


r  n 


I   ' 


III 

Ml 

ill 

■  I  ' 

li  ■ 


XIX. 

SGHCTOLS  op   liOS  fiNGELES. 


FOR  twelve  years  Los  Angeles  has  supported  an 
excellent  system  of  public  schools.  Although 
the  city  covers  a  large  area,  school-houses  are  conven- 
iently located  in  every  part.  Many  of  the  build- 
ings are  new,  thoroughly  equipped  for  their  purpose, 
and  are  attractive  externally.  And  it  is  doubtful 
if  in  any  city  of  its  size  there  can  be  found  a  body 
of  teachers  better  qualified.  Indeed  the  city  is 
reputed  for  the  high  scholarship  of  the  teachers  in 
the  graded  schools.  Moreover,  the  State  itself  de- 
mands unusual  accomplishments  in  the  candidates 
for  certificates.  It  has  been  said  that  eastern  teach- 
ers of  experience  have  sometimes  failed  to  pass  the 
examinations  it  requires.  A  principal  in  one  of  the 
schools  has  just  stated  that  applicants  for  certificates 
must  pass  an  examination  in  a  number  of  branches 
not  demanded  in  other  States.  They  must  be  familiar 
with  the  school  laws  of  California,  and  have  an  intel- 
ligent acquaintance  with  the  State  Constitution. 
136 


STATE  NORMAL  SCHOOL, 


137 


A  branch  of  the  Stats  Normal  School  is  making 
fine  headway  here  under  Professor  Ira  More  as 
principal.  Accompanied  by  this  gentleman  and, 
Mrs.  More,  on  a  recent  Wednesday,  the  writer  took 
a  look  through  the  great  Normal  School  building, 
and  paid  some  attention  to  the  methods  of  instruc- 
tion. It  may  truthfully  be  said  that,  from  basement 
to  roof,  the  structure  is  one  of  the  best  lighted, 
best  ventilated,  and  most  economically  arranged,  I 
have  ever  seen  for  the  purpose.  It  is  a  handsome 
edifice,  built  of  brick,  is  three  stories  in  height,  has 
spacious  halls,  ample  class-rooms,  and  enough  of 
them,  a  sunny  office  for  the  principal,  a  bright  par- 
lor for  the  preceptress,  an  inviting  library  on  the  first 
floor,  partially  filled  with  helpful  books,  and  a  well- 
equipped  laboratory  in  the  basement.  In  this  latter 
room  the  professor  of  chemistry.  Miss  Sarah  P. 
Monks,  an  alumnus  of  Vassar  College,  becomes  a 
Michael  Faraday  every  afternoon  to  a  class  of 
shrewd,  inquiring  young  men  and  women.  In  the 
cheerful  chapel,- commanding  a  broad  outlook  west- 
ward, down  the  rich  Cahuenga  Valley,  I  found 
assembled  for  the  simple  religious  exercises  of  the 
morning,  nearly  two  hundred  pupils  in  training 
for  the  teacher's  profession.  They  were  an  earnest, 
sensible-looking  company  of  students,  evidently  not 
at  school  for  play,  and  represented  a  half-dozen 
nationalities,  1  should  judge.  Their  free  and  fre- 
quent questions  upon   the  subjects  under  study  in 


'I    U 


[4 


V 

4J 


.^ 


lie  i::j 


■i    hi 


^W^" 


im 


138 


CALIFORNIA. 


h 


the  class-rooms,  afterward,  showed  they  were  work- 
ing for  a  purpose. 

The  Normal-school  building  crowns  a  command- 
ing eminence  between  Bunker  Hill  Avenue  and 
Charity  Street,  and  has  the  distinction  of  being  the 
'only  school  of  its  class  in  the  United  States,  which 
is  located  in  the  midst  of  an  orange  grove.  The 
art  of  the  landscape  gardener  is  now  converting 
the  formerly  rough  hill-side  in  front  of  it,  into  a 
picture  wherein  mingle  flowers,  trees,  terraces,  a 
fountain,  and  graveled  drives.  Glancing  in  any  di- 
rection from  the  windows  of  the  building,  or  from 
its  high  tower,  the  views  of  the  country  are  in- 
spiring. In  the  east  loom  up  the  stately  Sierra 
Madre  Mountains.  On  the  west  and  north-west 
rise  the  Santa  Monica  and  San  Fernando  chains, 
their  sides  chiseled  with  the  storms  of  centuries, 
while  towards  the  south  stretches  the  verdant 
Los  Angeles  valley,  bordered,  twenty  miles  away, 
by  a  strip  of  the  sea.  All  around  lives  the  city, 
busy,  taking  on  greater  vigor  every  day.  How 
could  intelligent  young  men  and  women  be  other- 
wise than  in  earnest,  while  fitting  themselves  for 
life's  work,  amid  such  scenes? 

Westward,  a  distaryce  of  three  miles,  or  less, 
stands  the  *•  UnivcrFiiy  of  Southern  California," 
founded  by  the  Methodists  in  1878.  Its  curricu- 
lum is  open  to  both  sexes.  The  institution  is  a 
thriving  one,  occupies  a  fine  building,  and  holds  the 


ELLIS  VILLA  COLLEGE. 


139 


title  to  considerable  real  estate.  It  has  the  confi- 
dence of  tlie  community,  and  looks  forward  to  suc- 
cess. An  important  department  of  tliis  University, 
is  the  Chaifey  College  of  Horticulture,  locat^ed  at 
Ontario,  the  model  colony  of  Southern  California. 

Now  turn  your  eye  toward  that  lovely  eleva- 
tion lying  to  the  north-west  of  the  Normal  School, 
and  possibly  a  mile  distant.  The  handsome  struc- 
ture you  see,  built  in  the  composite  style,  so  much 
in  favor  just  now,  is  Ellis  Villa  College,  a  school 
for  young  ladies,  built  and  opened  in  1884  by  Rev. 
John  Ellis,  then  pastor  of  the  First  Presbyterian 
Church  o."  Los  Angeles,  but  now  the  president  of 
the  college.  The  building  overlooks  scenery  as 
varied  as  that  seen  from  the  Normal  School.  The 
grounds  are  charmingly  improved.  Every  young 
woman  privileged  to  pursue  her  course  of  study 
in  the  presence  of  so  much  that  is  noble  and  beau- 
tifid  in  nature,  ought  to  form  a  character  as  attract- 
ive as  the  scenes  she  looks  upon. 

About  the  time  the  Ellis  Villa  School  opened 
its  doors,  there  was  established  at  Hermosa  Vista 
Hill,  a  delightful  eminence  lying  between  the  city  of 
Los  Angeles  and  the  vik'age  of  Pasadena,  the  "  Eden 
of  Southern  California,"  a  college  for  young  men,  also 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  but 
not  intended  to  be  sectarian.  Dr.  Ellis  was  one  of 
the  prime  movers  in  the  enterprise.  When  pro- 
jected, both  these  schools  were  by  many  thought  to 


'    "^  it 


,  \ 


;f 


I  ,' 


1        \        !        SSS^ 


ii.iM"  jw  f^mmmmmmim 


140 


CALIFORNIA. 


be  far  in  advance  of  the  necessities  in  the  line  of  edu- 
cation, because  in  advance  of  the  population  neces- 
sary to  sustain  them.  But  the  cautious  ones  could 
not  foresee,  that  in  the  short  space  of  three  years 
the  metropolis  of  Southern  California  would  double 
the  number  of  its  inhabitants,  and  that  the  in- 
crease of  population  in  the  county  would  preserve 
a  fair  proportion  to  that  of  the  city,  thus  creating 
a  demand  for  institutions  of  this  class.  On  their 
arrival  here,  now,  settlers  find  well  planted  and 
at  work,  every  grade  of  school,  from  the  kinder- 
garten to  the  luiiversity. 

The  College  of  Hermosa  Vista  Hill  is  as  favored 
as  those  I  have  described  for  scenic  surroundings, 
being  seated  almost  under  the  shadows  of  the  Sierra 
Madre,  with  the  fair  San  Gabriel  valley  spread  out 
on  one  side.  Here,  surely,  young  men  may  pre- 
pare to  live  for  their  country,  if  not  to  die  for  it. 

I  learn  this  morning  that  the  Baptists  and 
Ej)iscopalians  are  soon  to  appear  on  the  field,  bid- 
ding for  their  share  of  patronage  for  schools  of  a 
high  order.  Thus  about  all  the  ground  will  be 
occupied,  and  the  children  of  all  denominations  may 
hurry  forward.  Teachers,  books,  and  desks  will  be 
ready  for  them. 

Now  if  the  reader  is  not  weary,  we  will  retrace 
our  steps  to  the  fine,  sloping  ground  in  the  rear  of 
the  Normal  School.  Here,  built  into  the  hill-side, 
and  half  hidden  by  the  orange  trees,  we  shall  find 


THE  MAGNETIC  OBSERVATORY. 


141 


■<  '  I  'iVl 


an  institution  of  an  entirely  flilTorcnt,  but  most 
interesting  cliaracter.  This  is  an  "observatory  for 
determining  the  direction,  variation,  and  force  of 
the  magnetic  current."  It  is  the  only  observatory 
of  the  kind  in  the  United  States,  and  the  best  one 
in  the  world.  There  are  in  this  country  several 
other  stations  where  jiartial  or  occasional  observa- 
tions of  the  magnetic  current  are  made.  But  here 
the  record  is  ceaseless.  The  work  of  the  needles 
stops  night  nor  day,  for  holy  day  nor  holiday. 
Here  is  one  kind  of  perpetual  motion.  The  officer 
whom  the  government  appoints  to  duty  in  this 
dark,  double-walled  mite  of  a  structure,  is  little 
better  than  buried.  Unless  he  has  an  assistant, 
competent  and  faithful,  he  has  no  hours  off.  The 
magnetic  current  knows  no  Sunday.  It  furnishes  a 
man  no  tent  on  the  sea-shore  for  a  three  weeks' 
vacation  in  Summer. 

The  officer  now  in  chai-ge  of  this  observatory  is 
Charles  C.  Terry,  Jr.,  of  Columbus,  Georgia,  and 
is  a  relative — cousin,  if  I  am  correct — of  Gener  )• 
Terry,  of  Fort  Fisher  fame.  The  reader  remem- 
bers that  General  Terry  distinguished  himself  by 
carrying  that  stronghold  by  assault,  after  General 
B.  F.  Butler,  co-operating  with  Admiral  Porter,  in 
an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  capture  the  fort,  declared 
it  could  not  be  taken.  Charles  Terry  is  a  young 
man,  thirty  years  of  age,  perhaps,  and  though  very 

courteous  and  obliging,  seldom  admits  a  visitor  in- 

13 


■  11 

«.  ,;  ii 


i' '  Hi 


«ST^ 


1 

tJM 

g' 

^  ^M™ 

r 

>  - 

v^^L 

M. 


142 


VALIl'OHSIA. 


sido  his  cnstlc,  espociiilly  if  lie  liuks  the  iiitcllij^cnce 
to  coinpiT'liciKl  its  |»iii|)()so  and  iiiachiupi'y.  The 
writer  was  fortunate  in  having  a  '*  fiiend  at  court," 
and  got  in. 

After  our  ghinee  at  the  teaching  of  all  sorts 
of  sciences  at  the  Normal  Seiiool,  Mrs,  More 
and  myself  concluded  we  shoidd  like  to  see  the 
inside  of  a  building  so  rare  as  is  this  observatory, 
and  to  learn  how  the  changes  made  by  that  myste- 
rious force,  magnetism,  arc  recorded.  Professor 
More,  therefore,  acconipanied  us  down  the  narrov 
board  wnlk  leading  to  the  little  hut  in  the  grounu, 
and  as  we  approaclx'd  the  door,  said: 

"Ladies,  you'd  better  wait  outside  until  1  see 
if  you  can  be  admitted."  Then,  with  a  tirm,  steady 
jMish,  he  turned  the  scdid  outer  door  on  its  hinges, 
and  with  a  slow  and  cautious  step,  lest  he  should 
jar  the  magnetic  needles,  so  faithfully  at  work  in 
their  dark  dungeon,  "utered  the  narrow  passage 
separating  the  inner  from  the  outer  wall,  and 
disappeared.  Meanwhile,  we  who  were  in  waiting, 
speculated  as  to  the  Miings  within,  and  questioned 
if  it  were  possible  to  tread  lightly  enough  not  to 
ause  the  delicate  instruments  to  break  the  ninth 
commandment.  In  a  short  time  our  friend  emerged, 
saying: 

"Mr.  Terry  is  busy  performing  a  diflicult  piece 
of  work,  which  must  not  be  laid  aside.  Rut  he  says 
that  if  you  will  call  again  in  a  half-hour  you  will 


''■ih^ 


Tine   MAGNETIC  OBSERVATORY. 


143 


be  welcome,  and  be  will  take  pleasure  in  explaining 
to  you  how  man,  by  his  wonderful  inventions,  has 
compelled  the  magnetic;  current  to  disclose  some  of 
the  laws  by  which  it  is  governed." 

We  all  returned  to  the  scihool  building,  where 
Mrs.  More  and  myself  passed  the  half-hour  list- 
ening to  a  specimen  of  able  teaching  of  grammar. 
Then  returning  to  the  observatory,  we  pushed  open 
the  massive  door,  closed  it  softly  '  hind  us,  groped 
our  way  along  the  dark  hall  until  we  came  to  a 
door  made  partly  of  glass,  and  through  which  fell  a 
faint  light.  Upon  our  rapping  gently,  it  was  in- 
stantly opened  by  Mr.  Teiry,  in  shirt-sleeves  and 
long  apron,  the  latter  made  of  striped  ticking,  and 
covering  him  from  the  neck  down. 

Greeting  us  kindly,  he  immediately  defined  the 
work  of  the  observatory  to  be :  "  The  photographing 
on  paper,  and  afterwards  making  them  permanent 
by  chemical  processes,  the  direction,  changes,  dip, 
and  inclination  of  the  magnetic  current." 

H(!  then  spent  some  moments  explaining  the  use 
of  certain  aj)pliances  of  his  w'ork-room,  as  a  sort  of 
introduction  to  our  next  lesson.  Then  asking  us 
to  resign  our  steel-ribbed  umbrellas  to  the  care  of 
his  chemicals,  and  charging  us  to  step  lightly,  he 
led  the  way  to  a  small,  double-walled,  windowless 
inner  room,  the,  walls  of  which  wt^re  black  with 
smoke  from  burning  lamps.  Admitting  us  first,  he 
followed  and  carefully  closed  the  door.     Here,  each 


ti^ 


<!f!f 


—ft 


tit. 


144 


CALIFORNIA. 


; 

! 

^1 

n 

1. 1 

(■•! 


^■^ 


under  a  small  glass  dome  covered  with  black  cloth, 
were  three  magnetic  needles,  suspended  by  delicate 
cords.  One  of  them  indicating  the  vertical  force, 
another  the  horizontal  force,  and  the  third  the  dip 
and  inclination  of  the  current  of  terrestrial  magnet- 
ism. These  needles  are  seldom,  if  ever,  absolutely 
at  rest.  Thoir  movements  arc  photographed  by  light 
obtained  from  three  coal-oil  lamjis,  kept  always 
burning.  The  light  is  focalized  by  small  mirrors, 
upon  strips  of  white  paper,  placed  in  an  upright 
cylinder,  itself  incased  in  dark  cloth.  Mr.  Terry 
explained,  in  a  clear  and  interesting  way,  the  man- 
ner in  which  all  this  work  is  done.  But  I  forbear 
attempting  the  task  here,  lost  the  words  1  should 
use  might  shock  those  nicely  hung  needles  into 
recording  a  great  deviation  of  the  magnetic  current. 
Should  the  reader  ever  visit  Los  Angeles  let  him 
pay  a  visit  to  the  Normal  School,  where  Professor 
More  will  make  him  welcome,  and  then  walk  down 
to  the  observatory  and  take  a  look  at  it.  There  is 
little  hope  of  his  getting  inside,  but  it  is  a  satisfac- 
tion to  say  one  has  seen  the  place. 

However,  should  you  gain  admission  into  that 
strange  inner  room,  you  will  probably  be  required 
to  leave  behiiul  you,  not  your  umbrellas  only,  but 
your  gold  rings,  watches,  the  metallic  buttons  on 
your  clothiug,  and,  if  you  are  a  woman,  your  hoop- 
skirts  and  corsets,  if  they  have  steels  in  them.  All 
these  things  vvill  so  attract  the  magnets  towards  you 


THE  MAGNETIC  OBSERVATORY. 


145 


as  to  make  them  fail  in  their  duty  to  the  govern- 
ment. To  some  extent  Mrs.  More  and  myself 
were  so  appareled,  but  Mr.  Terry  politely  said  that, 
instead  of  asking  us  to  lay  the  articles  aside,  he 
would,  in  his  report  for  that  day,  state  the  cause  of 
the  aberration  of  the  magnets,  that  the  blame  might 
not  be  charged  to  the  magnetic  current. 

Upon  my  return  to  Los  Angeles  last  October, 
after  an  absence  of  two  years  on  the  northern  part 
of  the  coast,  I  learned  that  Mr.  Terry,  failing  in 
health,  contemplated  resigning  his  position.  His 
misfortune  was  thought  by  his  friends  to  be  due  to 
two  causes — close  confinement  in  the  observatory, 
and  excessive  smoking.  To  smoke,  therefore,  is 
one  thing  which  the  magnetic  force  allows  a  man 
to  do.  None  the  less,  he  makes  a  mistake  who  does 
it.  They  ^aid  Mr.  Terry  "  smoked  for  company." 
If  there  is  a  place  in  the  world  where  the  practice 
would  be  justified  on  that  ground,  that  little  hut  in 
the  hill-side  is  the  one.  It  is  with  sincere  regret 
that  I  add :  Since  leaving  the  coast,  word  has  reached 
me  to  the  effect  that  Mr.  Terry  has  ceased  to  be  the 
medium  through  which  the  magnetic  current  tolls 
its  mute  story  to  the  world  from  Los  Angeles. 
Death  asked  him  to  resign.     He  obeyed. 


\rW  i  ; 


v;li 


XX. 

f^    ROBLE    ^lONBEI^. 

FOR  some  years  preceding,  as  well  as  subsequent 
to,  the  accession  of  California,  there  figured  on 
the  Pacific  Coast  many  remarkable  characters. 
Among  them,  besides  native  Californiaiis,  were 
Americans  from  every  quarter  of  the  Union,  and 
also  representatives  of  every  nation  on  the  globe. 
Some  of  them  were  brave,  upright  men,  loyal  as 
friends,  generous  to  a  fault,  incapable  of  an  unmanly 
det'd.  Others  were  unprincipled,  mercejiary,  and 
placed  a  low  value  upon  human  life.  To  commit 
crime  seemed  as  natural  to  them  as  to  breathe.  Of 
these  some  sprang  from  an  ignoble  ancestry.  In 
others  the  bad  blood  seemed  to  start  with  them- 
selves; but  ill-doing  distinguished  them  all.  So- 
ciety lived  in  terror  of  them,  and  slept  peacefully 
only  when  the  earth  Avas  rounded  above  their 
graves.  But  one  by  one  both  classes  have  left  the 
stage,  until  to-day  a  fsurvivor  is  met  only  here  and 
there.  Of  one  of  these  survivors,  ranking  in  the 
first  category,  I  have  occasion  to  speak  in  this 
chapter. 

Colonel  J.  J.  Warner,  now  an  active  octogena- 
rian, has  resided  in  this  part  of  tlu>  (iolden  State 
146 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


117 


for  fifty -six  years.  These  years  embrace  the  most 
interesting  and  most  exciting  period  in  the  modern 
history  of  California.  In  the  stirring  scenes  attend- 
ing the  transfer  of  the  Territory  to  the  United 
States,  as  in  the  more  turbulent  and  rancorous  ones 
of  the  late  Civil  War,  when  wide  difference  of  opin- 
ion as  to  the  right  of  the  government  to  coerce  the 
slaveholding  States  diviiled  the  citizens  of  the  coast, 
Colonel  Warner  was  no  inconsiderable  figure.  Fear- 
less, resolute,  absolutely  loyal  to  the  government, 
he  stood  a  steadfast  advocsate  of  the  Union,  when 
the  fiery  adherents  of  secession,  by  whom  the  State 
was  thronged,  were  determined  to  carry  California 
for  the  Confederacy.  C\)l()nel  Warner  lived  long 
also  in  the  midst  of  treacherous  Indian  tribes, 
where  a  moment's  hesitation,  in  exigent  cases, would 
have  proved  fatal  to  his  own  and  others'  priceless 
interests.  More  than  once  his  prompt  action  in 
great  danger  saved  human  lives  and  property. 

Thus  for  many  years  following  his  settlement 
in  Los  Angeles  were  the  circumstances  of  his 
life  such  as  to  bring  out  the  strong  traits  in  his 
charjicter. 

Such  men,  living  in  such  times,  usually  make 
bitter  enemies;  but  of  this  venerable  pioneer,  not 
one  of  the  surviving  zealous  partisans  of  to-day 
sjleaks  in  other  than  terms  of  friendship  and  respect. 
Not  a  tongue  is  barbed  with  enmity.  And  if  gen- 
eral testimony  be  accepted,  none  have  won  greater 


h 


kl 


ifei 


M' 


M 
'  »'•* 


h 


hi  1 

Si 


r-rr— ,-7- 


I    i 


11 


hr 

I 
J)  il  I 


148 


CALIFORNIA. 


respect  for  their  opinions,  or  higher  appreciation  of 
their  wortli,  than  has  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  the 
first  president  of  the  California  Historical  Society. 

Colonel  Warner  is  a  native  of  Lyme,  Connecti- 
cut, in  wliich  place  he  was  born  in  the  year  1807. 
His  ancestors  were  early  settlers  in  that  part  of  the 
State,  and  were  persons  of  influence.  His  maternal 
grandfather,  Samuel  Selden,  was  a  colonel  in  Wash- 
ington's army  when  the  colonial  force  evacuated 
New  York.  Colonel  Warner  is  himself  a  favorite 
uncle  of  the  wife  of  Chief-Justice  Waite.  He  is  a 
cousin  of  the  wife  of  the  eminent  Judge  Ranney, 
of  Cleveland,  Ohio.  Other  of  his  relatives  scattered 
over  the  Buckeye  State  are  quite  numty:'ous.  Among 
them  is  Vicc'-rrcbideut  C.  C.  Waite,  of  tlie  Cincinnati, 
Hamilton  and  Dayton  Railway.  Probably  a  half- 
century  has  passed  since  one  of  these  friends  has 
grasped  the  hand  of  the  esteemed  ]>ioneer. 

In  October,  1830,  Mr.  Warner,  being  then  twenty- 
three  years  xt£  age,  and  of  frail  constitution,  left 
Connecticut  to  seek  health  and  fortune  in  the  "far 
West."  Arriving  in  St.  Louis  early  in  December, 
he  there  made  the  acquaintance  of  Jedediah  S. 
Smith,  a  famous  member  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
Fur  Company.  Tiie  noted  trapper  had  just  come 
into  the  bustling  village  from  the  North-west,  with 
an  invoice  of  furs.  He  was  accompanied  by  his 
partners,  Jackson  and  the  Soublette  brothers. 
Young     Warner's     imagination    was     excited     by 


I  I 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


149 


their  stirring  accounts  of  trapper  life,  and  he  con- 
cluded that  rough  fare  and  mountain  air  were  just 
the  things  required  to  render  him  strong  and 
vigorous.  So,  seeking  an  interview  with  the  in- 
trepid Smith,  he  conferred  with  him  in  reference 
to  spending  a  limited  time  at  his  camps  in  the  dis- 
tant mountains.  The  hardy  trapper  discouraged 
the  step,  and  the  tall  New  England  youth  had  to 
content  himself  with  spending  the  Winter  in  the 
"metropolis  of  Missouri."  However,  when  the 
Spring  opened,  Mr.  Smith,  who  also  had  remained 
in  St.  Louis,  oiFered  him  a  position  in  an  expedi- 
tion he  was  organizing  to  convey  a  quantity  of 
merchandise  to  Santa  Fe,  and  once  there,  Mr. 
Warner  might  choose  between  remaining  in  the 
capital  of  New  Mexico  and  returning  East  for  a 
fresh  stock  of  goods.  Smith  himself  headed  the 
enterprise,  but  not  long  after  reaching  Santa  Ee  he 
met  his  death  at  the  hands  of  Indians  on  the  Sem- 
eron  River.  This  blow  broke  up  the  operations  of 
his  firm  in  New  Mexico.  Mr.  Jackson  wound  up 
their  Jiifairs,  and  in  company  with  his  young  friend 
Warner  started  on  the  perilous  overland  journey  to 
Southern  California,  crossing  the  great  desert  of  which 
considerable  has  already  been  said  in  this  volume, 
and  arrived  in  Los  Angeles  in  November,  1831. 

A  few  months  subsequently  Mr.  Warner,  desir- 
ous of  seeing  something  of  the  vast  North-west, 
joined  a  hunting  party  bound  to  the  San  Joaquin 


\l 


;  'm 


-'--■H-f 


h- 


J  I 


!     1 '  I 


T^~";    ( 


t     II 


:'l 


Ith 


150 


CALIFORNIA. 


River  and  its  tributaries,  to  tlie  Sacramento  and  its 
branches,  and  thence  northward  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Um|)qua  River  in  Oregon,  and  from  that  point  east- 
ward to'  the  Klanuitli  Lake  region.  In  this  then 
long  and  perilous  trip,  the  young  man  accomplished 
iiis  earnest  desire  to  take  life  roughly  for  awhile. 
The  adventures  of  the  party  were  numerous,  and 
some  of  them  trying,  if  not  exciting.  For  the  fa- 
tigue and  hardshij>  he  cared  little,  if  he  might  but 
take  his  share  in  the  risks  and  perils,  and  in  the  end 
turn  out  a  Hercules  in  strength.  And  this  he  did, 
if  the  stories  now  told  of  his  subsequent  almost 
incredible  feats  of  horsemanship,  and  of  his  ability 
to  cope  with  a  score  of  armed  assaihmts,  be  true. 

In  those  early  days,  trapping  beaver  in  the  great 
mountain  ranges  of  the  West  was  an  exciting  pur- 
suit. Young  men  eager  to  engage  in  it  were  never 
lacking.  All  California  was  traversed  by  parties 
of  bold  hunters,  who,  n{)on  carrying  their  furs  to 
market  in  the  East,  set  afloat  marvelous  accounts  of 
the  fair  land.  Twenty  years  later  there  wr,e  resid- 
ing in  Oregon,  Washington,  and  California,  num- 
bers of  men,  of  distinguished  endowments,  who  had 
served  an  apprenticeship  in  trapping;  men  who  had 
been  attached  to  the  hazardous  business,  fascinated 
by  the  wild,  independent  life  they  led.  But  the 
country  settling  up,  one  after  another,  for  various 
reasons,  abandoned  the  mountains  and  took  up  his 
residence  on  the  coast.     Some  turned  their  attention 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


151 


to  civil  affairs,  and  have  rendered  excellent  service 
to  the  Pacific  States. 

Returning  to  Los  Angeles  after  an  absence  of 
fourteen  months,  Mr.  Warner  settled  permanently 
in  Southern  California.     He  was  now  twenty-seven 


r.i 


1 .1 


'^1 


Corridor,  San  Luis  Rey  Mission. 

years  of  age.  Three  years  later,  1837,  he  was 
united  in  marriage  to  a  young  lady  who  was  the 
\vard  of  Don  Pio  Pico,  then  administrator  of  the 
Mission  of  San    Luis   Rey,  and  afterward  Mexican 


I'    ■ 


!|.:r 


If'l 


152 


CALIFORNIA. 


governor  of  California.  The  mother  of  the  young 
woman  being  dead,  her  father  had  placed  her  at 
school  in  this  mission.  When  the  marriage  took 
place,  Mi'.  Pico  acted  as  godfather  of  the  groom, 
in  obedience  to  a  requirement  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  I  believe.  Out  of  this  relation  sprang  an 
attachment  between  the  two  young  men,  which  has 
known  no  change  through  fifty  eventful  years.  Mr. 
Pico,  of  whom  something  is  said  further  on  in  this 
volume,  is  now  a  resident  of  this  city.  He  has  seen 
upwards  of  eighty  years,  and  is  a  person  of  striking 
appearance. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Warner  established  their  home  in 
Los  Angeles,  where  they  resided  for  a  considerable 
period,  and  here  occurred  one  of  the  incidents  which 
attest  the  man's  courage,  and  exemplify  his  fidelity 
to  his  friends. 

During  the  Mexican  regime  in  California,  local 
rebellions  were  frequent  on  the  coast.  Factions  out 
of  power  were  ever  plotting  to  unseat  those  in 
authority.  The  city  of  Los  Angeles  was  sometimes 
the  theater  for  this  sort  of  pastime,  and  one  morn- 
ing Mr.  W^arner  found  himself  suddenly  and  inno- 
cently taking  part  in  one  of  these  emeutes.  The 
conflict  began  and  ended  so  quickly,  however,  that 
it  seemed  more  like  a  whiff  of  air  off  a  battle-field 
than  like  a  genuine  struggle.  When  it  was  passed 
the  hero  found  himself  the  possessor  of  a  broken 
arm  and  needing  the  aelp  of  a  surgeon. 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


153 


Upon  throwing  open  their  dwellings  early  one 
sunny  morning  in  April,  I  forget  what  year,  the 
citizens  of  Los  Angeles  were  surprised  to  see  a 
company  of  armed  soldiers  encamped  on  their  plaza, 
as  a  convenient  j)oint  for  operations  in  any  direc- 
tion. The  commander  of  the  body  was  one  Espin- 
osa,  an  adherent  of  the  then  reigning  governor, 
Alvarado.  The  purpose  of  his  silent  and  secret 
entrance  into  the  city  was  the  arrest  of  certain 
prominent  men  suspected  of  disaffection  toward 
Alvarado,  and  of  conspiring  to  reinstate  in  the 
gubernatorial  chair  one  Corrillio,  previously  deposed 
from  that  office.  Among  the  suspected  persons  were 
Don  Pio  Pico  and  his  brother,  Andrez  Pico,  subse- 
quently quite  a  notable  character  in  the  history  of 
Southern  California,  and  a  search  for  these  parties 
had  already  begun. 

Colonel  and  Mrs.  Warner  were  seated  at  the 
breakfast  table,  in  a  cozy  room  at  the  rear  of  his 
store,  when  an  authoritative  knock  upon  the  front 
door  caused  the  husband  to  spring  to  his  feet.  Upon 
opening  the  door  there  confronted  him  a  number 
of  Espinosa's  men,  who  inquired  if  Don  Pio  Pico 
were  there.  They  were  courteously  informed  that 
he  was  not.  Not  satisfied,  they  proposed  to  search 
the  premises,  a  privilege  which  was  at  once  refused. 
This  provoked  an  attempt  to  arrest  the  proprietor, 
who  stoutly  resisted.  A  hand-to-hand  contest 
ensued,  and  the  parties  were  soon  struggling  in  the 


'  i;f-'l'j| 


,  I 


154 


CALIFORNIA. 


street,  ini mediately  below  where  the  St.  Charles  and 
St.  Elmo  hotels  now  stand.  At  this  juncture  Es- 
pinosa  iiimself  appeared,  (joniing  out  of  Commercial 
Street,  with  his  revolver  drawn.  Perceiving  him, 
Colonel  Warner  realized  his  danger,  and  with  great 
fofee  breaking  away  from  his  assailants,  made  a 
dash  upon  that  officer,  and  wrested  the  weapon 
from  his  hand.  Soon  after,  having  occasion  to  use 
his  left  arm,  he  found  it  would  not  obey  his  will. 
In  the  eifort  to  quickly  free  himself  from  his 
captors,  one  of  them,  intending  to  disable  him,  had 
by  an  instantaneous  blow  broken  the  arm  between 
the  shoulder  and  elbow. 

At  that  moment  Mr.  AVilliam  Wolfskill,  one  of 
the  remarkable  men  of  the  place,  and  a  staunch 
friend  of  Colonel  Warner,  appeared  in  the  doorway 
of  his  own  business  house,  and  comprehending  the 
status  of  affairs  in  the  street,  advanced  toward  the 
crowd,  himself  well  armed.  Seeing  him  and  divin- 
ing his  intent,  the  wounded  man  cried  out : 

"  Do  n't  shoot ;  I  do  n't  want  any  man  killed." 
These  words  had  the  effect  to  allay  the  heat  of 
Espinosa  and  his  company,  who,  after  a  short 
parley,  released  their  captive.  Meanwhile  the  Picos, 
early  informed  of  the  captain's  errand,  had  made 
their  es(!a})e.  Some  days  later,  however,  tliey,  with 
a  half-dozen  other  prominent  citizens,  were  arrested 
and  conveyed  to  Santa  Barbara  "  as  prisoners  of 
war!"     Nearly    fifty   years  have  j)assed  away  since 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


155 


that  day,  yet  the  viotiiii  of  (hat  rencounter  recalls 
the  circiunstancos  as  clearly  and  as  readily  as  if  the 
event  bad  happened  only  yesterday. 

In  the  year  1846,  Colonel  Warner  secured  from 


il 


Sacrioty,  San  LiUia  H=y  iMiisaiJii. 

the  Mexican  government  a  valuable  grant  of  land, 
embracing  twenty-six  thousand  acres,  or  six  square 
leagues.  The  tract  adjoined  the  lands  belonging  to 
the  San  Lilis  Rev  Mission,  and  also  skirted  the  old 
through  wagon-road  from  San  Diego  to  Fort  Yuma* 


Ui 


11- 


;]|t 


if'iii 


IS!''' 


156 


CALIFORyJA. 


It  lay  some  sixty  miles  east  of  tlic  former  place,  and 
one  hundred  and  twenty  south-east  of  Los  Angeles. 
Some  time  in  1844  M»*.  Warner  removed  liis  family 
to  this  princely  estate.  Thenceforth  it  was  known 
as  "  Warner's  Kancii."  and  bears  that  name  to-day, 
though  years  have  elapsed  since  the  title  thereto 
was  vested  in  Colonel  Warner. 

A  distinguished  Californian,  writing  upon  inci- 
dents connected  with  those  dangerous  days  in  this 
part  of  the  State,  says : 

"  Colonel  John  J.  Warner,  a  pioneer  whose  mag- 
nificent domain  was  the  first  reached  by  the  immi- 
grant after  crossing  the  Colorado  desert,  was  always 
open-hearted  and  generous  to  the  wayworn  trav- 
eler, and  nearly  impoverislicd  himself  by  his  acts  of 
charitable  liberality.  All  honor  to  the  bonevolent 
old  pioneer." 

Once  in  possession  of  these  broad  acres,  the  next 
step  was  the  stocking  them  liberally  wi*h  horses, 
cattle,  and  sheep.  This  Colonel  Warner  did,  and 
shortly  was  reputed  to  be  "immensely  rich  "  ^  .»t 
to-day,  while  comfort  and   plen*;y  find  l<  i  at 

the  honorable  man's  fireside,  he  is  n^  iiger  a 
Croesus  of  the  plains.  In  some  of  the  man  vicis- 
situdes which  have  swept  over  this  region,  probably 
some  of  this  wealth  took  wings  and  flew  away. 
Much  of  it  certainly  was  expended  in  oiiarity.  Not 
a  little  was  stolen  by  marauding  Indians,  as  the 
following  occurrence  shows: 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


157 


The  ranc'lios  of  that  period  were  kept  munifi- 
cently supplied,  not  only  with  groceries  and  provis- 
ions for  the  entertainment  of  large  companies  of 
guests  and  frequent  needy  travelers,  hut  also  with  a 
full  and  often  expensive  assortment  of  dry  goods. 
This  was  especially  the  case  at  Colonel  Warner's 
frontier  home.  The  man  who  could  so  liberally 
provide  for  strangers  and  friends  practiced  no  par- 
simony in  supplying  the  wants  of  his  family.  One 
is  not  surprised  that  the  vast  store  of  necessaries 
and  luxuries  always  on  hand  at  the  Warner  rancho 
should  sooner  or  later  excite  the  cupidity  of  preda- 
tory Indians,  of  whom  a  plenty  were  the  colonel's 
neighbors. 

During  the  year  1851  he  was  repeatedly  warned 
of  a  threatened  attack  from  the  Cowia  tribe,  num- 
bering several  hundred,  and  living  in  villages  not 
far  from  his  estate.  Hardly  believing  the  reports, 
he,  however,  took  the  precaution  to  remove  his  wife 
and  children  to  San  Diego,  starting  them  out  in  the 
night,  under  escort  of  one  Captain  Nye,  a  sea-faring 
f''iend  of  the  family,  who  happened  to  be  o..  r.  visit 
to  the  rancho.  A  little  before  sunrise  the  sfjond 
morning  after  their  departure,  the  colonel  was 
awakened  by  the  shouts  of  savages  around  the  house. 
Having  kept  watch  during  the  nij^ht,  he  had  lain 
down  toward  day,  taking  care  not  to  remove  his 
shoes,  and  was  at  the  moment  in  a  sound  slumber. 

On   a  table  at   the   bedside   lay  several   loaded 

14 


158 


CALIFORNIA. 


pistols  and  a  fowling-piece  or  two.  At  the  rear  door 
stood  three  saddle  horses,  tied,  and  ready  for  instant 
mounting.  The  arms  and  animals  were  provided 
for  the  eso'ipe  of  himself,  his  Mexican  servant — at 
that  moment  being  slain  by  the  plunderers,  in  a 
corral  a  few  rods  away — and  a  mulatto  boy,  the 
servant  of  an  army  officer  at  San  Diego.  The  latter 
was  confined  in  the  house,  a  helpless  victim  of  rheu- 
matism. He  had  been  sent  out  from  the  city  to  try 
the  water  of  some  notable  hot  springs  on  the  rancho, 
and  had  come  over  to  the  house  but  the  day  before. 

Springing  from  the  bed,  Colonel  Warner  ran, 
unarmed,  to  the  rear  door  of  the  house,  and  opened 
it,  to  ascertain  if  the  horses  were  yet  there.  The 
marauders,  about  two  hundred  in  number,  greeted 
him  with  a  shower  of  arrows,  not  one  of  which  hit 
him,  fortunately. 

Stepping  quickly  to  the  table,  and  securing  one 
of  the  fowling-pieces,  he  returned  to  his  guests,  and 
found  to  his  dismay  that  two  of  the  horses  had 
been  removed,  and  that  an  Indian  was  in  the  act  of 
loosing  the  third.  The  gun  flashed,  and  the  plim- 
derer  lay  on  the  ground  dead.  A  second,  attempting 
to  take  the  animal,  fell  also.  Then  a  third,  making 
the  effort,  was  mortally  wounded.  Thrown  into  a 
panic  by  these  casualties,  the  band  retreated  tem- 
porarily to  a  shed  near  by,  bearing  the  bodies  of 
their  fallen  comrades. 

Resolved  now  to  attempt  an  escape  before  the 


m 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


159 


Cowias  could  rally,  and  also  to  save  the  young 
invalid  in  his  care,  Colonel  AVnrnor  quickly  placed 
tl.tj  Doy  on  the  horse,  put  his  holster  pistols  in  the 
saddle,  his  helt  pistols  on  his  person,  laid  one  fowl- 
ing-piccc  across  the  nock  of  the  horse,  and  suspended 
another  at  the  animal's  side.  Then  mounting  in 
front  of  the  youth  he  dashed  away,  the  foe  not 
interfering.  On  the  estate,  some  miles  distant,  lay 
a  village  of  friendly  Indians,  where  were  the  head- 
quarters of  his  herdsmen.  Thither  rode  the  fugi- 
tives with  all  speed.  Immediately  thirty  trusted 
Indians  were  charged  with  conveying  the  invalid 
to  St.  Isabel,  for  care  and  safety,  and  the  herders 
were  dispatched  to  bring  in  the  stock.  Then,  ac- 
companied by  a  number  of  his  own  Indian  depend- 
ents, Colonel  Warner  hastened  back  to  his  home. 
The  Cowias,  recovered  from  their  fright,  were  hur- 
riedly removing  from  the  premises  the  stock  of 
merchandise,  valued  at  about  six  thousand  dollars. 
They  now  showed  great  hostility,  terrifying  the 
man's  small  escort  into  a  prompt  retreat.  To  op- 
pose the  spoilers  single-handed,  was  to  meet  certain 
death.  The  Colonel,  therefore,  wheeled,  rode  away 
and  joined  his  family  in  San  Diego.  Upon  their 
return  they  were  attended  by  a  considerable  mili- 
tary escort,  led  by  Major,  afterwards  General,  Hein- 
zelman.  This  rancho,  on  the  verge  of  the  desert, 
was  the  home  of  the  family  f(M*  thirteen  years,  or 
until  1857,  when  Los  Angeles  once   more   became 


i    ?'i 


)  > 


I 


I 


160 


CALIFORNIA. 


i;l 


their  place  of  residence.     The  ii.  xt  year  witnessed 
the  death  of  Mrs.  Warner. 

For  Mr.  Warner's  bravery  in  saving  the  life  of 
the  colored  youth  at  the  risk  of  his  own,  he  received 
the  title  of  Colonel — from  his  friends  only,  I  pre- 
sume.    He  was  never  in  the  army. 

In  1858  Colonel  Warner  entered  journalistic 
life,  as  the  publisher  of  the  Southern  California  Vine- 
yard, a  Democratic  sheet,  at  first  devoted  to  general 
news,  but  in  time  drifting  into  a  strong  political 
paper.  But  when  the  Democratic  party  of  Cali- 
fornia took  position  in  favor  of  secession,  Colonel 
Warner  adhered  to  the  Union,  notwithstanding 
strong  party  effort  to  control  both  him  and  his 
paper.  As  was  to  be  expected,  loyalty  killed  the 
journal,  but  failed  to  kill  its  editor. 

The  Vineyard  breathed  its  last  in  18fil.  For  five 
years  thereafter  Colonel  Warner  was  the  Southern 
California  correspondent  of  the  AHa  California. 

Previous  to  becoming  a  knight  of  the  pen, 
he  served  the  public  in  several  responsible  civil 
positions.  For  the  sessions  of  '51  and  '52  he 
represented  San  Diego  County  in  the  Assembly  of 
California;  and  Los  Angeles  County  in  the  same 
bodv  in  1860.  He  was  once  elected  a  judge  in  San 
Diego  County,  but  being  long  absent  in  Sun  Fran- 
cisco  never  (lualiiied,  and  never  served. 

A  few  years  ago  Cohmel  Warner  wrote  a  series 
of  articles  on  methods  for  confining  the  Los  Angeles 


I  i  J     5 

! 


ill 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


161 


River  within  its  proper  channel  in  seasons  of  flood. 
These  papers  drew  attention  at  the  time  for  their 
apparent  practicability.  But  with  the  deceptive 
stream  flowing  under  ground  half  the  time,  and 
seldom  troubling  any  body  very  much,  his  suggestions 
were  not  heeded.  But  the  suffering  and  loss  of  life 
and  property  caused  by  its  overflows  last  Winter, 
have  led  to  the  republication  and  serious  considera- 
tion of  these  articles. 

In  the  spring  of  1884  the  aged  pioneer  com- 
pleted a  lengthy  paper  ou  "  The  Causes  of  the  Cold 
and  Warm  Ages  in  the  Arctic  Latitudes."  His 
theory,  if  not  correct,  is  interesting,  and  reads  as 
follows : 

"At  one  time  in  the  world's  history  the  Conti- 
nents of  North  and  South  America  were  not  as 
they  now  are,  united  by  the  Isthmus  of  Partama. 
All  Central  America  then  lay  beneath  the  ocean. 
Behring's  Strait,  instead  of  being  a  narrow  passage 
of  water,  was  a  broad  sea,  connecting  the  Pacific 
and  Arctic  Oceans.  No  warm  Gulf  Stream  flowed 
northward  along  the  eastern  coast  of  North  Amer- 
ica, and  across  the  Atlantic  to  the  British  coast. 
But  an  equatorial  warm  stream  of  vast  proportions 
flowed  from  the  Atlantic  into  the  Pacific  »Ocean, 
over  submerged  Central  America,  and  on  north- 
westwar  Uy  to  the  north-eastern  coast  of  Asia, 
where,  pouring  through  liehring's  Strait  into  the 
Polar  Ocean,  it  converted  it  into  a  vast  thermal 


.  '11 


1  «^ 


.Hi 

m 


~l 


■>:' 


162 


CALIFORNIA. 


8oa,  on  wlioso  shores  flourished  a  tropical  vegeta- 
tion. Ages  passed  away,  and  Belninn's  Strait  be- 
came very  nearly  closed  by  volcanic  upheaval, 
greatly  restricting  the  flow  of  warm  water  into  the 
Northern  Ocean.  Arctic  temperature  was  the 
result  in  those  high  latitudes.  Meanwhile  Central 
America  had  appeared  above  the  ocean,  sending  the 
equatorial  warm  current  northward  along  the  east- 
ern coast  of  North  America,  and  forming  the  'Gulf 
Stream' o^  to-day." 

In  the  neigld)orhood  of  forty  years  ago  this 
patriarch  paid  his  first  and,  up  to  the  present,  only 
visit  to  his  native  State.  His  route  was  a  devious 
one,  taking  hiiu  from  Ijos  Angeles  to  San  Pedro, 
thence  to  Acaj)u1co  by  water,  and  from  there  across 
Mexico  to  Vera  Cruz,  whence  he  went  by  sail  to 
Mobile,  and  thence  on  to  the  land  of  steady  habits. 
While  ill  the  East  he  delivered  several  addresses 
on  California.  In  the  city  of  Rochester,  1841,  he 
discussed  the  question  of  a  trans-continental  railway, 
remarking:  "Should  I  ever  come  East  again,  I  shall 
come  in  a  railway  car."  That  discussion  gives 
Colonel  Warner,  instead  of  Stephen  H.  Whitney, 
as  has  been  claimed  for  him,  the  honor  of  being  the 
first  man  to  propose  a  thoroughfare  of  steel  across 
tho  continent  of  America. 

A  Los  Angeles  paper,  speaking  on  this  point 
this  morning,  says:  "Mr.  Whitney  took  up  tin- 
suggestion   and   talking    upon  it,  gained  much  cclaf 


A  NOBLE  PIONEER. 


163 


in  the  East  for  tlic  boldness  of  the  idea,  while  Col- 
onel Warner,  returning  to  California,  lost  all  eredit 
for  it.  The  honor  should  certainly  be  awarded  to 
our  esteemed  fellow-citizen.  It  seems  to  us,"  the 
sheet  continues,  "  that  the  continental  railway  lines, 
even  at  this  late  day,  should  vleem  it  an  honor  to 
transport,  in  the  most  luxurirnis  Pullman  car,  the 
venerable  gentleman,  who,  wit  \  profound  foresight, 
nearly  a  half  a  century  ago,  fi  st  proposed  a  railway 
across  the  American  continent." 

It  may  interest  the  reader  to  know  that  the 
great  railways  did,  in  June,  after  this  sketch  was 
written,  convey  Colonel  Warner  and  the  young 
lady — a  grandchild — who  attended  him,  twice  across 
the  continent.  In  an  absence  of  several  months  in 
the  East,  the  happy  pioneer  visited  the  home  of 
Ciiief  Justice  Waite,  in  Washington;  was  received 
with  marked  respect  by  President  Artnur,  and  took 
a  look  through  all  the  grand  government  buildings. 
Proceeding  to  New  England,  he  renewed  his  ac- 
quaintance with  the  scenes  and  surviving  friends  of 
his  youth,  and,  going  or  returning,  passed  some 
time,  in  a  delightfid  way,  among  his  relatives  in 
and  around  Cleveland,  Ohio;  and,  as  he  said  to  the 
writer  after  his  return,  '*  was  everywhere  treated 
like  a  prince." 

Colonel  Warner  now  resides  with  a  married 
daughter  on  Main  Street,  in  Los  Angeles,  in  an 
old-time  adobe  home,  with  its  only  entrance  at  the 


li 


i! 
h'      I 


I'll 


ti:  I 


164 


CALIFORNIA. 


rear  of  the  building.  Unfortunately,  since  making 
his  la.«t  eastern  trip,  he  has  almost  wholly  lost 
his  sight.  "  I  can  not  see  you,"  he  said,  meeting  me 
on  my  return  to  Los  Angeles,  after  an  absence  of 
two  years,  "  but  I  remember  your  voice."  His 
mental  faculties,  on  the  other  hand,  are  perfectly 
preserved.  He  was  that  day  serving  as  a  delegate 
to  a  county  political  convention,  held  in  the  city. 
The  man  is  over  six  feet  in  height,  slender,  quite 
erect.  His  white  hair  stands  out  from  his  head  in 
all  directions.  As  to  the  matters  of  his  own  life 
he  is  modest  and  reticent,  though  most  of  the  facts 
given  in  this  sketch  were  obtained  from  his  own 
lij)s.  He  is  a  perfect  encyclopedia  of  information 
on  a  host  of  subjects.  He  readily  recalls  the  lead- 
ing events  in  the  history  of  California  for  a  half- 
century  past,  with  their  exact  dates;  and  also  the 
career  of  many  of  its  prominent  men.  He  is  oblig- 
ing, at  great  cost  to  himself  numy  times.  I 
frequently  had  occasion,  during  my  residence  here, 
to  call  upon  him  for  information  on  some  subject. 
Every  time  he  was  the  same  patient,  courteous,  self- 
forgetting  gentleman. 


XXI. 

(EJoLOMiZAit'ou  Schemes. 


IN  no  part  of  the  United  States,  certainly,  and, 
perhaps,  nowliere  in  the  worhl,  has  the  .^nbjeet 
of  ook)nization  received  more  earnest  and  more  in- 
telligent consideration  than  lias  been  given  it  in 
Sonthern  California  during  the  past  six  years.  The 
most  enterprising  of  men  have  devoted  time, 
strength,  ability,  and  fortunes  to  devising  schemes 
for  settling  this  part  of  the  coast  rapidly  and  well. 
There  was,  the  moment  the  Southern  Pacific  Road 
was  completed,  and  still  is,  ground  for  pushing  and 
developing  this  sort  of  business.  Lying  on  this 
coast,  seven  years  ago,  with  a  climate  nowhere  on 
earth  surpassed,  was  a  vast  area  of  country  almost 
literally  without  house  or  inhabitant.  Of  course 
1  know  there  were  villages  here,  and  ranchos,  with 
houses  upon  them,  but  that  does  not  weaken  the 
statement  I  have  made.  On  account  of  the  pro- 
ductiveness of  the  soil,  this  area  was  fitted  to 
become  tiie  home  of  millions  of  people.  Most  of 
it  could  be  given  to  the  plow  almost  without  cutting 
down  a  tree  or  removing  a  stone,  but  it  was  land 

asleep.     During  the  past  week   J    have  ridden  over 

15  Kif) 


f  S-21 


•■! 


'J 


il 


i  ■  -  !•  1*; 

IK" 


100 


(ALU'ORMA. 


thousands  of  acres  which  the  implements  of  hiis- 
hundry  have  never  touched.  Under  its  covering  of 
thickly  blooming  flowers — white,  piidv,  blue,  purple, 
and  yellow,  all  tiny  but  beautiful  things — are  con- 
cealed possibilities  of  production,  so  great  that  I 
dare  not  express  the  facts  in  the  case,  lest  the 
reader's  incredulity  shall  break  out  in  words  1 
should  not  care  to  hear. 

To  bring  these  acres  under  cultivation,  and 
bring  human  beings  to  the  enjoyment  of  their  pro- 
ducts and  the  benefits  of  the  delightful  climate,  as 
well  as  to  contribute  to  the  resources  of  the  coun- 
try, while  increasing  their  individuil  fortunes,  are 
the  chief  objects  sought  by  the  men  engaged  in 
the  numerous  colonization  enterprises. 

The  subject  of  colonization  has  at  least  two  sides. 
It  will  readily  be  conceded  that  all  the  benefits  of 
the  scheme  ought  not  to  accrue  to  the  families  who 
settle  on  colony  sites,  finding  ready  to  their  hand, 
the  moment  they  arrive  on  the  ground,  systems  of 
water,  of  light,  and  oi'  education,  together  with 
church  privileges,  a  dry-goods  store,  a  grocery,  a 
doctor,  a  newspaper,  iind,  in  many  instances,  a  taste- 
ful new  dwelling  ready  for  their  occupancy.  It  is  ex- 
pected, or  should  be,  that  the  two,  ten,  or  twenty 
men  who  purchase  a  large  tract  of  land  in  a  favor- 
able location;  lay  it  oif  in  lots  and  parcels;  plant 
upon  it  trees  by  the  thousand,  for  shade  and  fruit; 
conduct   to  all    parts  of  it    an    unfailing  supply   of 


""■^ 


COLONIZA  TION  SCHEMES. 


107 


pure  soft  water  from  some  river  or  mountain  spring, 
miles  distant ;  build  a  hotel ;  erect  a  chureh  and 
a  school-house;  secure  postal  facilities;  arrange  for 
telephonic  and  telegraphic  communication  with  the 
outside  world;  work  early  and  late,  and  hard,  to  in- 
terest people  in  what  they  are  doing;  and  lastly, 
worry  until  health  declines,  lest  after  all,  the  venture 
may  fail,  will  reap  something  of  a  harvest  from  the 
one  or  two  hundred  thoustind  dollars  sow^i  in  all 
these  improvements. 

There  are  in  Southern  California  a  score,  prob- 
ably, of  prosperous  colonies.  ■  Some  of  them  have 
expanded  into  beautiful  towns  and  strengthened  into 
extensive  fruit-growing  communities.  In  a  preced- 
ing chapter  I  have  referred  to  a  cluster  of  such 
settlements,  all  lying  south-east  of  Los  Angeles,  in 
the  Santa  Ana  Valley.  But  (m  the  through  line  of 
the  Southern  Pacific  Railway,  east  of  the  city  and 
within  a  distance  of  seventy  miles,  has  been  planted 
another  series  of  such  colonies.  It  will  do  the 
reader, who  has  never  seen  California, good  to  read 
about  them. 

Last  Thursday  afternoon,  at  four  o'clock,  the 
through  eastern  train  on  the  above  road  pulled  out 
from  the  depot  in  Los  Angeles  with  the  writer  on 
board,  wound  through  a  dusty  street  or  two,  then 
turned  s(piarely  awjiy  from  the  sunset,  swept  across 
the  nearly  dry  bed  of  the  Los  Angeles  River,  and 
struck  out  for  the  great  Colorado  Desert.     On  our 


; 


1(58 


CALIFORNIA. 


left  until  long  after  sunset,  the  purple  Sierra  Madres 
were  .n  full  view  from  the  oar  windows,  while  short 
spurs  and  ranges,  named  for  the  whole  catalogue  of 
saints,  shot  out  into  the  plain,  over  which  we  were 
speeding,  in  every  direction.  For  the  first  two  or 
three  miles  out  the  traveler  sees  nothing  attractive, 
except  a  few  vineyards  and  young  orange  orchards, 
with  occasional  residences  planted  on  the  hills 
around. 

The  first  halt  is  at  Alhambra,  which  suggests 
Washington  Irving  and  Old  Spain,  but  which  con- 
sists of  little  more  than  a  fine  hotel,  set  away  on  a 
sightly  hill-top  under  the  Sierra  Madre.  Running 
on  some  miles  the  train  stopped  in  front  of  the  ancient 
church  of  the  San  Gabriel  Mission,  eleven  and  a  half 
miles  from  the  city.  Here  stood  this  somewhat 
unique  structure  when  Los  Angeles  was  founded,  one 
hundred  years  ago.  All  around  it  lies  the  rich  and 
highly  cultivated  San  Gabriel  Valley,  verdant  with 
all  kinds  of  fruit  orchards,  and  as  fragrant  with  flow- 
ers as  Ignatius  Donnelly  claims  were  the  fair  plains 
of  the  submerged  island  of  Atlantis.  It  was  the  floral 
copy  of  this  church  which  formed  so  notable  a 
feature  of  the  San  Gabriel  exhibit  at  the  brilliant 
flower  festival  held  in  Los  Angeles  last  May. 

Next  on  the  list  is  the  incipient  town  of  La 
Puente,  which  recalls  to  mind  the  fact  that  the  Lu 
Puente  Rancho  in  this  vicinity,  is  a  tract  of  land 
deemed  exceedingly  rich  in  petroleum  deposit.    Some 


COLONIZATION  SCHEMES. 


lUO 


six  j'ears  ago — 1880,  I  think — two  indomitable 
Canadiiin  gcntlonu'n,  the  Messrs.  Gt-orge  and  Will- 
iam Chaffoy,  founders  of  the  flourishing  lolony  of 
Ontario,  where  our  train  will  soon  arrive,  were 
engaged,  with  some  others,  in  developing  this  source 
of  wealth  here.  About  that  time  Mr.  Burdette 
Chandler,  a  gentleman  familiar  with  coal-oil  mining 
in  Pennsylvania,  began  boring  for  oil  on  this  ranch. 
At  a  depth  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  he  obtained 
in  paying  quantities  a  grade  of  oil  similar  to  the 
West  Virginia  lubricating  oil.  Three  wells  were 
put  down  to  a  depth  varying  from  one  hundred  and 
fifty  to  five  hundred  feet.  Each  well,  produced  fif- 
teen barrels  per  day  at  the  outset.  About  this  time 
was  organized  the  Chandler  Oil  Company,  for  the 
purpose  of  developing  the  petroleum  on  this  farm. 
Other  wells  were  then  sunk,  with  flattering  results; 
also  a  refinery  was  erected  for  distilling  the  oil.  In 
the  "Annual  Report  of  the  Los  Angeles  Board  of 
Trade"  for  1886,  I  notice  that  coal-oil  is  mentioned 
as  one  of  the  most  promising  resources  of  Los  An- 
geles County.  It  is  well  known  that  the  county 
abounds  with  oil  springs,  asphaltum  beds,  and  mines 
of  brea. 

The  celebrated  Brea  Rancho,  situated  some 
eight  or  nine  miles  north-west  of  Los  Angeles,  af- 
fords a  splendid  example  of  the  bituminous  deposit 
of  the  region.  Originally  this  was  a  large  and  val- 
uable estate,  whose  proprietor,  becoming  pecuniarily 


'5  \ 


IT  !• 


m 


170 


CALIFORNIA. 


N! 


i    i 


involved,  mortgaged  portions  of  it  to  enable  him  to 
meet  his  obligations.  But  before  the  debts  were 
liquidated  death  released  him  from  his  burdens, 
transferring  them  to  the  shoulders  of  his  widow. 
She  bravely  faced  the  responsibility,  sold  enough  of 
the  estate  to  cancel  the  mortgages,  and  then  began 
mining  the  brea  as  a  source  of  income  for  herself, 
redjieing  it  on  the  estate,  to  a  form  convenient  for 
making  cement  pavement  for  streets.  The  whole 
was  a  piece  of  good  management,  and  the  lady  now 
finds  herself  on  the  road  to  indeponden(!e.  Five 
hundred  acres  of  this  property  are  the  possession  of 
ex-Senator  Cornelius  Cole,  of  California,  appointed 
some  years  ago  to  settle  the  claims  of  the  Pacific 
Coast  creditors  in  the  notorious  Alabama  case. 

But  while  we  have  been  talking  about  coal-oil 
the  train  has  run  on  to  Pomona,  an  enterprising 
village  thirty-three  miles  from  the  city,  and  tiie 
spot,  of  all  others  in  Southern  California,  on  which 
the  Goddess  of  Fruits  should  shower  her  favors, 
since  it  bears  her  name.  The  place  has  existed  but 
a  few  years,  and  has  a  population  of  twenty-five 
hundred  people  probably.  Being  a  part  of  the  great 
plain  whicii  slopes  southward  from  the  base  of  the 
Sierra  Madre,  its  soil  is  inexhaustibly  fertile,  and 
its  climate  almost  faultless.  Groves  of  semi-tropical 
fruits  flourish  on  all  sides.  A  perennial  supply  of 
pure  water  is  furnished  by  a  stream  which  breaks 
from  the  mountains  back  of  it.     That  the  place  has 


th; 


CO  L  ONIZA  TION  SCIl  EMES. 


171 


schools,  cluirchos,  and  other  facilities  for  tlio  irn- 
])rov(  iicnt  of  the  citizens,  goes  withont  saying.  For 
yeniH  to  come,  Pomona  will  be  associated  with  the 
name  of  that  admirable  Christian  man,  llev.  C  T. 
Mills,  who,  with  his  capable  wife,  founded  Mills 
Seminary  near  Oakland,  California,  a  number  of 
years  ago.  At  one  time  Dr.  Mills  represented  a 
large  interest  in  the  land  on  which  this  village 
stands,  and  his  wise  assistance  in  the  development 
of  the  colony  insured  the  gratifying  progress  we 
now  see.  While  here  attending  to  its  affairs, 
one  dav,  he  met  with  the  accident  that  cost  him 
his  life.  Being  thrown  from  his  carriage,  he  re- 
ceived an  injury  to  one  of  his  arms  which  resulted 
in  amputation,  and  subsequently  in  death.  Thus 
was  Mrs.  Mills,  assisted  by  a  board  of  trustees,  left 
the  sole  head  of  the  institution,  and  also  an  impor- 
tant member  of  the  Pomona  Laud  Company.  Dr. 
Mills,  who  was  for  some  years  president  of  Batti- 
cotta  Theological  Seminary,  India,  and  also  of  Oahu 
College  for  Young  Men  in  Honolulu,  had  the 
respect  and  friendship  of  many  prominent  people  in 
this  country. 

Four  miles  further  eastward,  the  train  halts  in 
front  of  the  trim  little  station-house  at  Ontario. 
The  tasteful  building,  with  its  surrounding  of  gay 
flowers  and  borderings  of  bright  color,  looks  more 
like  a  summer-house  on  some  gentleman's  estate, 
than   like   a   temporary   shelter  for  passengers,  and 


i 


172 


CALIFOKNIA. 


(lie  biiHinoss  oflRco  of  the  railway.  The  place  takes 
its  name  from  Ontario,  Canada,  where  its  fomulcrs, 
I  lie  Clialley  brothers,  spent  llieir  youth.  Their 
father  was  once  the  owner  of  large  shipping;  inter- 
ests in  an  old  Canadian  city,  and  established  quite 
a  commerce  with  certain  Anujiican  towns.  As  the 
train  draws  up,  passengers  on  the  village  side  of  the 
cars  exclaim:  "What  a  pretty  place!"  But  I  hap- 
pen to  know  that  a  little  over  four  years  ago  not  one 
building,  and  but  a  single  tree,  relieved  the  thou- 
sand desolate  acres  now  changed  into  this  pleasant 
scene.  Less  than  three  years  since,  I  visited  the 
place  for  the  purpose  of  studying  the  practical 
workings  of  colonization  schemes.  The  town  was 
then  undergoing  wide  advertising  as  "the  model 
colony  "  of  Southern  California,  and  was  a  place  of 
great  interest  for  many  reasons,  but  the  reader  will 
be  most  concerned  in  its  present  situation. 

Ontario  lies  in  San  lieiiiardino  County,  the 
largest  I'ounty  in  the  State  (having  an  area  of  ttu 
million  acres),  is  thirty-eight  miles  east  of  Los  An- 
geles, and  is  a  part  of  the  territory  known  as  the 
"warm  belt,"  a  strij)  of  country  from  eight  to  ten 
miles  wide,  which  skirts,  for  a   distance  of  seventy 


mi 


les,    f 


rom    w 


est    to   east,    the    base  of  the  Sier 


ra 


Madre  Mountains,  and  iiichides  all  the  thriving 
towns  between  Pasadena  and  the  San  (lorgonio 
Pass.  This  district  is  seldom  visited  by  frosts, 
never  by  severe  ones.      It  may  be  irrigated  in  every 


""""*'-""V^frfliiTWnfy^  \-.p  >^^vyl^^.^  _i-^  --. 


COLONTZA  TION  SCHEMES. 


173 


part  by  water  from  the  rivers  which  traverse  it 
from  north  to  south,  or  froip  mountain  s|>rings  and 
torrents.  It  is  therefore  s.dMirably  adapted  to  the 
culture  of  both  northern  and  setni-tropioal  fruits. 

Ontario  may  also  be  said  to  lie  in  what  is  termed 
the  Upper  Santa  Ana  Valley,  between  two  lofty 
ranges  of  mountains,  the  Sierra  Mad  re,  ten  miles 
away  on  the  north,  the  Temescal,  fifteen  miles  dis- 
tant on  the  "outh.  In  every  direction  the  view  from 
the  place  is  very  fine.  The  town  plat  is  a  part  of 
a  tract  of  ten  thousand  acres  to  be  devoted  to  the 
colony.  Purer  air  can  nowhere  be  breathed. 
Through  the  center  of  the  tract,  from  the  railway 
to  the  nearer  mountains,  stretches  a  beautiful  ave- 
nue, seven  miles  long,  two  hundred  feet  wide,  as 
straight  ■^■:  surveyor's  chain  could  make  it,  with  an 
ascending  grade  toward  the  Sierra  of  one  thousand 
feet.  Through  the  middle  of  this  avenue  was  orig- 
inally allotted  a  space  forty  feet  wide  for  a  double 
line  of  cable  railway  to  be  operated  by  water.  But 
as  the  ears  stopped  pposite  the  magnificent  thor- 
oughfare, a  passetiger  remarked : 

"  The  Ontario  Laiwl  Company  Is  about  to  lay 
the  rails  for  an  electric  road  up  one  of  those  drives 
to  the  mountains,  and  thence  around  to  he  mouth 
of  the  famous  San  Antonio  canon." 

Planted  on  both  sides  of  this  forty  feet  is  a 
row  of  fan  palms,  alternating  with  the  eucalyptus, 
or    the    pepper    tree.     Both    the    latter    are    rapid 


{X'l 


¥    ^   'A 


174 


C ALIFORM  A. 


growers,  and  are  set  to  secure  temporary  shade  and 
tree  effects  until  the  puliu.s  make  a  display,  when 
they  will  be  removed.     T!ie  imposing  effect  of  this 


Fan  Pa;m8. 
double    row    of   the    fan    palm,    when    sufficiently 
grown,  must  be  seen  to  be  appreeiateti.     Again,  on 
either  side  of  this  central    way,  extends  a  carriage 
drive,    sixty-five    feet    wide,    very    smooth,    never 


VOLOMZA  TION  SCHEMES. 


<0 


(lusty,  and  lined,  next  the  sidewalk,  by  a  row  of 
grevlllia  and  pepper  trees,  with  the  eucalyptus  inter- 
spersed. The  fjrevillia  is  a  handsome  tree,  ever- 
green, with  bushy,  spreading  crown,  and  general 
appearance  like  that  of  the  pepper  tree,  over  which, 
however,  it  has  the  advantage  of  preserving  a 
smooth,  dean  trunk  in  old  age.  Finally,  fifteen  feet 
are  reserve<l  on  botii  sides  this  avenue  for  side- 
walks and  external  parks  of  flowers.  Many  of  the 
lots  fronting  upon  this  street  have  been  fenced  with 
a  hedge  of  the  Monterey  cypress.  Should  this 
hedge  be  continued  to  the  mountains,  there  will  ap- 
pear two  low,  trim  lines  of  vivid  green,  seven  miles 
long,  doing  away  with  unpicturesque  fencings  of 
wood  and  iron.  Now  imagine  this  broad  roadway 
embellished  with  six  rows  of  varied  and  fadeless 
green,  the  whole  flanked  with  a  wealth  of  beautiful 
bloom.  Think  of  a  drive  at  early  morning,  or 
after  tea,  up  this  smooth  ascent,  with  the  Sierra 
rising  right  before  one  and  a  health-giving  breeze 
funning  the  cheek.  I  myself  rode  over  it  when  all 
this  charm  of  vegetation  was  at  the  starting  point,  be- 
fore tiie  grade  was  established  quite  to  the  mountains. 
It  was  a  delightful  ride.  But  with  all  this  orna- 
mentation at  maturity,  there  will  be  not  another 
such  street  in  California,  unless  a  rival  be  found  in 
Magnolia  Avenue,  at  Riverside,  of  which  we  shall 
have  a  word  to  say  further  on;  nor  on  the  conti- 
nent,  except    it  be    Kuclitl   Avenue,    in   Cleveland, 


lli'i 


»*»iik..i>'.i«^r;. 


mmmmmmmm 


17<) 


CALIFORNIA. 


if  ■ 


Ohio,  wliost'  niimo  it  borrows.  The  Ontario  Euclid 
embrucos  one  hundred  and  eighty  acres  of  land,  and 
io  adorned  with  something  like  seventy  thousand 
trees,  and  is  twice  the  width  of  Cleveland's  beau- 
tiful street. 

At  the  time  of  my  first  visit,  eighteen  months 
after  the  ground  was  broken,  seventy  families  were 
settled  upon  the  tract;  a  public  school  was  in  pro- 
gress ;  postal  and  telegraph  fiicilities  had  been 
secured  ;  a  commodious  hotel  had  been  erected,  and 
the  varied  work  of  laying  oif  lots,  grading  streets, 
putting  down  water-pipes,  tunneling  the  mountains 
for  unfailing  water,  setting  vines  for  raisins,  and 
planting  a  great  variety  of  fruit  trees,  was  going 
on  with  a  will,  besides  building  for  this  purpose 
and  for  that.  Two  years  have  passed  since  that 
day,  changing  the  scene  wondrously.  How  so  much 
could  have  been  done  in  so  little  time  is  a  marvel. 

The  soil  of  this  warm  belt  is  a  sandy,  gravelly 
loam,  lying  gently  inclined  to  the  southern  and 
western  sun,  and  is  easily  worked.  Dense  fogs,  a 
serious  hindrance  in  some  localities  to  the  curing 
of  raisins,  are  said  to  visit  Ontario  too  seldom  to  be 
taken  into  account. 

It  should  now  be  said  that  the  interests  of  the 
colony  have  passed  from  the  harHs  of  its  founders. 
Some  months  ago  a  gentleman  representing  an 
Australian  colonization  com))any  arrived  in  Los 
Angeles  for  the  'purpose  of  investigating  the  coloniza- 


tion  .schemes  of  Sonthern  GWifornh      Th     r 
Ontario  had  ..eae,..n.is  ear.     I       ,. ,•/'''  'T^'  ^' 

j'"t,jrunt.     iie  conferred  \i  if h  fi,« 
'"  'he  feasibility  „f  „„,„,,„,,      /j        '''^";  ^ 

iisc  on  liind  rionf  llio  rid-  -  P  i>r  n 
*""  "•■^«  a    ,„.„,,„.i,i„„    ,„   ,„„    1,..,,,..   f,    fl 

■-'- o„„„tr,,„  I  ;„S;:' '-'■';'■''""'''"■ 

C'.a%  soon    sailed  V       a'"    '     "'■•  '■'■"'^'^ 
field  ove.     A  "     '  i :    ^■"''™""    *«    '<«>'<    "« 

-'""'.  ^™  r;:;;:7;«;;;^-- «- 

-pM.^.anddeoide.Wo.eiiMinl^to;''^ 
.'"   A„.e,.i,.a    I,..   »„,„  aeeon,p,,.,,„,  ,"s„  ""! 

»"-' "iMl,!,-..,      M,-   U-        '"""'^ '"'"' »'»l'  l">^  wife 

*i  .  ^  '*  iater  dav      Ti..v. 

y-rseari^  ;:  "■". "'T^ ■'"«'-"  "^"'vu  a  few 

»'--po-;  e:i:r';;,•''T^"■''■^»■- 
="»'  l>"iWi„s  up  ,„„  '  '  ^*   "  "■'■8'"  «'" 

['-<-:■ -^K.nee.i,s,,.on;eS:::;r;.:'::7 

J  have  „  fron,  ■,  ,,,,.,„„„,  ,  '."  "'•"  ettec,. 

wl.eu  l,e  arrived  in  L„,  A  '"""■  "'■' 

"KO,"t„e« f    i^  ;,if '^'^^ 'r ''-' «ve  vears 

>  ^naae  to  spring  out  of  the 


f' ,  a 


y  I 


Ur 


-V' 


t' 


SJ's'li 


I  w- 


17H 


t'ALIFORMA. 


naked  rnopM  in  tho  space  of  four  years,  with  all  its 
present  beauty,  homes,  and  business,  proves  what 
wonders  can  be  aoconipli.shed  by  sheer  courage, 
encrfiy,  and  industry,  linked  with  a  taste  for  educa- 
tion, and  a  reverence  for  God  and  religion. 

A  feature  of  special  importance  at  Ontario  is  the 
noble  San  Antonio  canon.  From  the  head  of  Euclid 
Avenue  a  carriage  road  winds  off  to  the  left,  among 
the  few  low  foot-hills  of  the  Sierra  Madre.  After 
several  hundred  rods  of  distance,  it  turns  and  enters 
the  rock-strewn  mouth  of  this  grand  gorge,  pen- 
etrating the  Sierra  not  less  than  nine  miles.  Dowi 
this  wilil  |)as.sage  flows  the  clear,  cold,  roaring, 
tuml>liug  stieam,  which  gives  the  colony  its  splen- 
did drinking  water.  Speckled  trout  abound  in  it, 
as  do  (juail  atnong  the  foot-hills  and  loftier  heights, 
making  the  place  a  paradise  for  the  angler  and 
the  hunter.  But  the  place  has  higher  recommen- 
dations than  its  tine  scenery  and  myriad  life  in  air 
and  water.  It  is  an  Eden  for  sufferers  from  asthma 
and  rheumatism.  Relief  from  these  troubles  has 
been,  almost  innnediate  in  some  cases,  at  the  en- 
trance to  this  oaiion.  A  well-known  physician  of 
Chicago  relates  that  a  severe  case  of  asthma  was 
greatly  mitigated  after  one  hour  spent  here,  and  a 
trying  case  of  sciatic  rheumatism  yielded  after  a 
a  two  weeks*  sojourn. 

Fn  a  tent  pitched  on  a  grassy  plot,  among  some 
trees,  at   tlu;   opening   to  this  gorge,  there  lived  in 


LOLOSIZA  TIOS  SCHEMES. 


179 


1H84  ii  fjcnt Ionian  from  San  Fraiu^isoo,  who  had 
h)nfj^  Ix'iii  alllic'tcd  with  asthma  of  a  tcrrihU'  type. 
So  long  as  he  reniaiiu'd  in  the  caiion  his  enemy  h't 
him  ah)ne,  hut  the  moment  he  ventured  into  Los 
Angeles  for  twenty-fonr  hours,  the  disease  attaeked 
him  so  fiercely  that  he  was  glad  to  hasten  baek  to 
his  retreat  under  the  shadow  of  the  everlasting  hills. 
He  pronounees  the  spot  the  best  for  liis  malady  he 
has  ever  found. 

Nor  is  the  resort  without  attraetions  for  well 
people.  Numbers  visit  the  loeality  every  year  for 
refreshment.  Business  men  jaded  with  care  and 
anxiety  find  new  strength  beside  its  merry  stream. 
Romping  among  the  granite  bowlders,  pining  chil- 
dren become  hardy  as  little  bears.  And  such  an 
appetite  as  jieoplc  get!  The  most  provident  rook 
would  be  taxed  to  meet  its  demands.  Some  three 
years  ago  Mr.  William  ChafFey,  worn  with  the  bur- 
den of  Ontario  affairs,  removed  his  wife  and  eliil- 
dren  to  the  eanou  and  can'ocd  for  several  weeks. 
Speaking  of  that  time,  he  told  nw  that  when  ready- 
to  return  to  his  home  he  felt  siroiig  enough  to  fonndi 
another  colony.  A  fair  road  extends  up  the  deep 
rent  in  the  mountains  for  a  distan«w  of  some  mi 
Mount  Haldy,  the  regal,  snow-eapp«l  summit 
tioni<l  in  an  <iirly  chapter  of  this  book,  stauds  at  its 
head,  eight  ndlcs  from  the  mouth,  and  sixteen  fi'  m 
Ontario  and  the  Southern  Pacific  road.  The  monarch 
is  worthy  a  visit.      Its  lnight  is  nine  thousand   feet. 


m 

Wa 


'  r  njif 


IHO 


CALIFOliMA. 


In  all  this  tfii  tlMdisaiul  acres  of  incliiud  plane 
there  is  not  an  acre  of  marsh  or  fen;  not  a  rod  over 
which  malaria  dare  hover;  scarcely  a  foot  which  the 
health-g:ivinf^  snnsliino  does  not  bless.  A  ihieU  f(»g 
rarely  finds  its  way  this  distance  from  the  sea. 
Sometimes  a  (liin  v;i|i<)r  lloats  over  the  tract  just 
before  morninj;,  l)iit  even  that  vanishes  soon  after 
breakfast.  About  two  o'clock,  as  sure  as  the  after- 
noon comes,  a  refreshing  breeze  springs  uj>  and  con- 
tinues until  sunset.  The  average  temperature  of  the 
Summer  days  is  eighty  degrees.  The  evenings  are 
cool.     Warm  wraps  are  then  necessary. 


XXII. 

UlNEYAI^DS  AND  Ol^ANGE   Gl^OYES. 


IN  Southern  California  all  distancos  are  measured 
from  Los  Aiigclos.  I  mention,  therefore,  that 
Riversitle,  ^^ith  its  beautiful  suburh,  Arlington — I 
am  not  sure  but  that  I  should  say  Arlington,  with 
its  less  attractive  suburb,  Riverside — is  located 
sixty-eight  miles  south-east  of  that  eity,  and  seven 
milea  south  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railway.  I 
entered  the  place  in  an  open,  high-seated,  square- 
topped  "stage,"  having  left  the  train  at  Colton,  nine 
miles  distant.  The  vehicle  tossed  its  load  of  six 
passengers  about  in  a  merciless  fashion,  but  afforded 
us  a  fine  view  of  the  hills  and  valleys  at  every  turn. 
Along  most  of  our  course  wild  flowers  covered  the 
ground  as  with  a  carpet.  There  were  millions  upon 
millions  of  the  tiny  things,  exquisite  in  coloring, 
dainty  in  shape. 

Every  feature  and  asj)ect  of  River  '  le  is  rural. 
A  day's  ride  through  the  State  of  (  by  rail,  in 
any  direction,  would  reveal  twenty  n  village,", 
omitting  the  vineyards,  orange  groves,  cypress 
hedges,  eucalypti,  and  fan  palms  of  Riverside. 

"That  sounds  like  on)itting  a  great  deal,"  sayi 
the  reader.     It  is. 

The  whole  vicinity  of  Riverside  and  Arlington 
'        16  1,1 


1 


;.; 


It    1 


H.!f 


^ 


mn 


182 


CALIFORNIA. 


furnishes  indubitable  evidence  that  somebody  works 
in  the  vnlh^y.  Yet  during  a  drive  of  eij^ht  miles 
yesterday  afternoon  past  an  almost  unbroken  suc- 
cession of  orange  groves  and  vineyards,  I  actually 
saw  only  three  men  engaged  in  their  cultivation. 
The  grounds  and  trees  were  faultlessly  clean.  The 
leaves  of  the  orange  trees  looked  as  if  they  had 
been  subjected  to  an  application  of  polishing  pow- 
der, so  glossy  and  bright  were  they.  Probably  the 
secret  of  all  this  tidiness,  was,  that  the  golden  fruit 
had  been  gathered  by  the  shippers,  and  atiy  trim- 
ming the  trees  required  after  that,  had  been  done 
and  the  ground  carefully  raked.  The  vines  like- 
wise had  had  their  pruning  and  were  growing  finely. 
Thus  Avas  the  Spring  work  of  the  horticulturists 
"done  up,"  just  as  housekeepers  do  up  their  Spring 
cleaning.  The  extreme  nc'^ness  of  some  of  the 
orchards  added  immensely  to  their  attractions.  I 
had  visited  fine  orange  orchards  in  Florida,  but 
never  had  I  seen  a  sight  to  compare  with  these 
miles  upon  miles  of  glistening  trees.  From  the 
road  to  far  back  in  the  distance  stretched  the  diag- 
onal rows  as  straight  as  hand  of  man  could  set  them. 
To  have  stopped  a  few  moments  here  and  there,  sim- 
ply to  look  at  them,  would  have  been  a  satisfaction, 
but  I  was  taking  a  hurried  drive  and  could  not  tarry. 
In  1884  River>side  had  the  largest  acreage  of 
vines  and  trees  of  any  »f  the  colonies  giving  atten- 
tion to  orange  and  raisin  culture  south  .of  the  Sierra 


n 


l/.N7;)MA7>.s  /1A7)  <fIi.\X<!l-:  (iltOVlCS. 


\K\ 


Miulrc.  Yi't  no  fjirtlicM"  hack  tlinn  1870,  this  valley, 
t)()\v  fio  smiling  and  yi*'l<Iing  Hnch  laviHli  rctnrn.s  to 
its  rnltivfitors,  was  bnt  a  silent  waste,  mantled  in 
Spring-time  with  gay  flowers  and  tall  wihl  grasses. 
The  soil  is  composed  largely  of  disintegrated  rock, 
washed  from  the  sinrouiiding  monntaiiis  hy  the 
storms  of  ages,  and  possesses  almost  honndless  pow- 
ers of  production.  Hnt  these  powers  were  dormant. 
Something  was  needed  to  arouse  them,  and  that 
something  was  simply  the  voi(u<  of  rnnning  water. 
The  making  this  discovery  has  (r hanged  the  face  of 
Nature  all  over  this  section  of  our  onntry.  There 
was  more  sense  in  General  Fremont's  idea  of  flood- 
ing the  Colorado  Desert,  or  portions  of  it,  in  order 
to  render  it  productive,  thar  he  has  ever  had  credit 
for.  He  has  heen  laughed  at  for  his  supposed  irant 
of  sense  in  even  thinl;ing  of  so  shallow  a  ])roject. 
Yet  experiment  has  pr  'ed  that  water  is  the  one 
thing  necessary  to  convert  miles  of  those  arid 
stretches  into  fruitful  gardens. 

In  September  of  1870  the  Southern  ('alifornia 
Colony  Association  was  formed  for  the  purpose 
of  buying  and  selling  lands,  and  of  appropri- 
ating the  water  of  the  Santa  Ana  River  to  the 
irrigation  of  sixteen  townships.  The  next  year,  in 
June,  a  canal  was  finished  to  the  hamlet  now  called 
Riverside.  Then  began  the  experiments  in  irriga- 
tion. Wonderful  mutation !  Then,  the  barren  land. 
To-day,  fruit,  bloom,  and  beauty  everywhere,  with 


■<ii; 


I 


i ! 


)  ? 


o^\^^ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


■-  IIIIIM 

iiiin  0 
•^     llliM 


IK 

[2.0 

1.8 


1.25 

1.4 

1.6 

.« 6"     

► 

4 


^ 


^ 


v} 


(? 


/^ 


^c? 


/. 


^1: 


^  a"^ 


<$>. 


/ 


^ 


(? 


/ 


/^ 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Coiporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


V 


c^^^ 


% 


.V 


-^^ 


\\ 


^> 


#^°^ 


6^ 


^^^ 


<>■ 


%^ 


w 


•1 


>■    wJ 


i    mp< 


C/j 


>M 


1 


4 


1 


i 


'^\p 


I  r ; 


184 


CALIFORNIA. 


I 


.1 


I'  '>    1 1 


fortunes  making  and  fortunes  promised,  all  out  of 
the  once  somnolent  soil. 

In  the  chapter  on  Ontario  rcft'renee  was  made 
to  Magnolia  Avenue,  in  Arlington,  which  is  but  an 
extension  of  Riverside,  and  contains  many  pretty 
streets  and  handsome  homes,  Riverside  being  the 
business    portion    of    the    place.      It    includes    the 


The  Pepper  Tree. 
hotels,  stores,  newspaper  offices,  and  all  kinds  of 
shops.  But  Arlington's  street,  par  excellence,  is 
Magnolia  Avenue,  consisting  of  a  double  driveway, 
each  lined  on  both  sides  by  a  row  of  pepper,  eucalyp- 
tus, fan-palm,  and  grevillia  trees,  alternating  in 
places.  The  appearance  of  the  .street  i.s  magnificent. 
The  effect  is  produced  mainly  by  the  two  passage- 
ways and  the  several  lines  of  trees,  intensified  by 
the  presence  of  the  palms,  and  by  plats  of  brilliant 


VINEYARDS  AND  ORANGE  GROVES. 


185 


'I 


flowers  blooming  between  tho  curb-stone  and  side- 
walk in  front  of  some  of  the  residences.  Merely 
as  a  street  Magnolia  Avenue  far  transcends  the 
world-renowned  Euclid  Avenue  in  Cleveland.  But 
the  moment  the  lawns  and  residences  of  Euclid 
Avenue  are  placed  in  the  picture,  it  completely 
eclipses  the  Arlington  thoroughfare.  There  are 
some  fine  dwellings,  however,  among  these  orange 
groves,  themselves  a  feature  which  can  never  grace 
the  Cleveland  street. 

In  orange  culture  Riverside  is  supposed  to  rival 
the  best  orange-fields  of  the  continent.  Eminent 
among  the  varieties  grown  here  is  the  Riverside 
Naval,  an  orange  of  Brazilian  origin,  and  surpassing 
in  size  and  flavor,  as  some  think,  the  luscious  Indian 
River  orange  of  Florida.  At  the  California  fruit 
exhibits  it  has  "often  taken  th.e  premium  over  all 
competitors,"  being  pronounced  the  best  orange 
grown  in  the  United  States.  About  1885  a  blood 
orange,  in  flavor  superior  to  the  well-known  Malta, 
made  its  appearance  in  this  valley,  coming  from  the 
Island  of  Tahiti.  There  are  said  to  be  growing  in 
Southern  California  thirty-three  varieties  of  oranges, 
and  fourteen  or  more  kinds  of  lemons. 

RAISIN  CULTURE   AT    RIVERSIDE. 

But  it  is  as  a  center  of  raisin  culture,  perhaps, 
that  Riverside  comes  most  prominently  to  the  front 
among  the  colonies  of  Southern  California.  I  should 
say,  without  the  figures  at  hand  to  prove  it,  that  its 


Mil 
>.  {if 


i 


E.  i: 


186 


CALTFORNIA. 


shipments  of  this  fruit  exceed  those  from  all  other 
points  combined.  In  this  vulloy  mncli  study  and  in- 
telligent experiment  have  been  given  to  the  industry, 
and  it  has  been  learned  that  four  conditions  are 
indispensable  to  success  in  the  pursuit.  These  are: 
A  rich,  warm,  well-drained  soil;  a  dry  atmosphere; 


Rai3in  Grapes. 

skillful  cultivation  of  the  soil,  and  a  high  tempera- 
ture for  curing  the  fruit.  All  these  requisites  seem 
to  obtain  at"  Riverside.  The  reader  may  have  sup- 
posed that  raisins  can  be  made  wherever  grapes  can 
be  grown.  A  few  observations  taken  in  a  raisin- 
makiiig  community  would  banish  that  notion. 
Grapes  can  be  grown  where  rains  are  frequent ;  but 
a  shower  when  raisins  are  curing,  is  an  undesiral)le 
visitor.  The  details  of  the  industry  are  very  in- 
teresting.    If  the  reader  will   peruse  the  following 


RAISIh  CULTURE. 


187 


paragraphs  he  will  get  a  good  idea  of  how  raisins 
are  made.  Most  of  the  information  given  was 
derived  from  the  Messrs.  Orr*  and  William  Backus, 
intelligent  raisin-growers  at  Riverside. 

The  grape  most  in  favor  with  the  Riverside  cul- 
turists,  and  the  one  from  which  their  best  raisins 
are  made,  is  the  Muscat  of  Alexandria,  a  native  of 
Northern  Africa.  Besides  this,  there  are  much  cul- 
tivated, the  Muscatel  Gordo  Blanco,  a  large,  white, 
pulpy  grape,  of  liigh  flavor,  and  the  Seedless  Sul- 
tana, a  small,  white,  prolific  variety,  mainly  used 
for  cooking.  The  Muscat,  however,  is  the  staple 
grape  for  raisins.  Under  favorable  circumstances 
it  yields  very  large,  open  clusters,  which,  when  ripe, 
are  of  a  light,  amber  color,  firm  in  flesh  arid  rich 
in  sugar.  The  seeds  are  small,  and  the  flavor  very 
fine.  The  Muscat  vine  is  peculiarly  sensitive  to 
cold  and  dampness,  especially  at  the  period  of 
inflorescence.  Such  a  state  of  weather  is  quite  cer- 
tain to  produce  sterile  blossoms.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  the  Muscat  is  not  so  well  adapted  to 
the  northern  part  of  the  State,  where  showers  and 
heavy  fogs  are  frequent.  Also,  the  occurrence  of  a 
few  extremely  hot  days  in  Summer  will  cause  the 
berries  to  fall;  while  a  chilly  season  delays  their 
maturing,  and  increases  the  labor  of  curing  them. 
'  A  raisin  vineyard  is  in  full  bearing  at  eight 
years  from  the  planting.  Properly  cared  for  after 
that  age,  it  ought  to  yield  bountifully  for  at  least 


\M 


'  1  I 


t     t'-'t  '" 


188 


CALIFORNIA. 


forty  years.  Some  of  the  vineyards  of  the  Mission 
Grape — a  wine-making  fruit — planted  in  Caliiornia 
by  the  Franciscan  Fathers,  are  a  century  ohi,  yet 
but  a  few  years  since,  the  black,  distorted  stumps  of 
one  of  these  vineyards  were  to  be  seen  fruiting  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Aliso  Street,  in  Los  Angeles. 
Once  in  bearing,  therefore,  a  raisin  vineyard  may 
be  a  source  of  income  during  the  owner's  life-time; 
and,  should  he  be  early  removed  by  death,  is  a  de- 
sirable property  to  leave  his  family. 

The  operations  of  pruning  and  irrigating  the 
vines;  of  picking,  drying,  and  packing  the  raisins, 
require  the  exercise  of  skill  and  intelligence, 
if  the  vineyardist  would  reap  a  harvest  from  his 
investnlent.  In  the  singular  soil  of  California  na- 
ture has  hidden  away  many  a  fortune,  and  if  man 
would  persuade  her  to  unlock  them  for  his  benefit, 
he  must  work  in  harmony  with  her  plans.  There- 
fore, if  she  requires  grapevines  to  be  trimmed  down 
to  two  eyes,  instead  of  more,  his  wisest  course  is  to 
obey  her.  If  she  resents  having  the  soil  washed 
away  from,  rather  than  properly  soaked  above  their 
roots,  during  irrigation,  he  had  better  gracefully 
yield  the  point.  Prodigal  irrigation  meets  its  pun- 
ishment in  deteriorated  fruits  and  impoverished 
fields.  How  often  and  how  much  to  irrigate,  are 
important  questions  in  California.  Location,  the 
character  of  the  soil,  and  the  variation  in  the  sea- 
sons,  modify   the  answer.     The   fruit-grower   must 


RAISIN  CULTURE. 


181) 


use  his  judgment,  and  his  experience,  in  deciding 
the  case. 

In  planting  vines  for  raisins,  cuttings  from 
eighteen  to  twenty  inches  in  length,  and  bearing 
from  three  to  five  healthy  buds,  are  preferred.  The 
cutting  is  made  close  to  one  bud,  and  that  one,  with 
one  or  two  others,  is  buried  firmly  beneath  +he  well- 
prepared  soil. 

The  customary,  and  probably  best  time  for  prun- 
ing is  in  December  and  January.  It  may  be  done 
at  anv  time  after  the  leaves  fall  and  before  the  buds 
start.  A  second  or  "Summer  pruning"  is  practiced 
by  some  vine-dressers.  But  the  step  is  objected  to 
by  others,  on  the  ground  that  removing  many  of 
the  leaves  exposes  the  berries  to  sun-burn.  At  the 
Winter  pruning  Mr.  Backus,  who  has  made  an  ear- 
nest study  of  the  soil  and  climate,  cuts  his  canes 
down  to  ten  or  twelve  inches  from  the  ground.  It 
is  considered  that  a  low,  strong  stump,  with  short 
spurs  for  the  fruit,  insures  better  results  than  does 
a  greater  length  of  vine.  Just  before  the  buds 
start,  the  ground  is  plowed  and  irrigated  thoroughly. 
If  a  second  and  later  irrigation  can  be  avoided,  the 
better.  If  not,  just  enough  water  should  be  given 
the  vines  to  ripen  the  fruit.  To  insure  first-class 
raisins,  the  grapes  must  be  fully  ripe  when  cut. 

When  the  Muscat  berries  have  taken  on  a  clear, 

bright,  amber  color,  as  they  do  between  the  first  and 

middle  of  September,  they  are  ready  for  the  pick- 

17 


\m 


1 1*  I'f 


190 


CALIFORNIA. 


ing.  Chinese  and  Indians  are  usually  employed  for 
tliis  branch  of  the  work.  In  son)e  vineyards  the 
picking  is  done  by  the  day,  in  others  by  the  tray,  the 
wages  varying  from  $1.50  to  $2.00  per  day.  Each 
picker  removes  the  clusters  from  two  rows  of  vines 
at  the  same  time,  placing  them  on  wooden  trays 
capable  of  holding  twenty  pounds  each,  which  are 
placed  at  intervals  between  the  rows.  In  the  pick- 
ing great  care  is  taken  not  to  remove  the  "  bloom  " 
from  the  fruit  with  the  hands,  as  that  detracts  from 
the  apj)earance  (»f  the  raisins.  Three  trays,  of 
twenty  p.ounds  each,  will  make  twenty  pounds  of 
raisins.  Thus  the  fruit  shrinks  about  two-thirds  in 
cnring. 

The  weather  being  favorable,  the  raisins  will 
dry. in  about  fourteen  days.  Should  a  shower  fall 
while  they  are  curing,  the  trays  must  be  "stacked," 
several  in  a  company,  the  sides  being  well  protected 
in  some  way.  By  this  arrangement  the  berries  will 
stand  a  heavy  rain  without  injury.  It  has  been 
learned  that  to  inclme  the  trays  to  the  sun  on 
favorable  days  hastens  the  drying.  The  fruit  is 
turned  but  once  during  the  fourteen  days,  but  the 
act  requires  some  dexterity,  as  a  tray-full  is  turned 
by  a  single  movement.  It  is  accomplished  by 
inverting  an  empty  tray  upon  a  full  one,  and  turning 
both  simultaneously,  the  full  tray  thus  becomes  the 
empty  one.     Two  men  are  required  for  the  deed. 

By  some  parties  the  trays  are  allowed  to  remain 


!( 


RAISIN  CULTURE. 


191 


on  the  ground  between  the  rows  during  the  drying. 
By  others  they  are  disposed  in  an  open  space, 
where  the  fruit  may  have  the  full  fervor  of  the  sun 
and  the  free  sweep  of  the  air.  Formerly  it  was  the 
custom  to  lay  the  clusters  on  the  bare  ground  to 
dry,  and  to  turn  each  one  by  hand.  Laying  them 
on  paper  superseded  this  practice.  Boards  were 
next  adopted.  Then  followed  frames  made  of  lath. 
Trays  are  the  latest  invention. 

The  berries  not  being  uniform  in  size,  there 
results  nnevenness  in  the  curing.  Before  they  are 
packed,  however,  not  only  must  .the  moisture  be 
equalized,  but  the  aroma  must  be  developed;  also 
the  fragile  stems  must  be  rendered  pliable,  else  the 
clusters  will  be  broken  in  the  packing.  All  these 
results  are  secured  by  placing  the  trays  in  contriv- 
ances called  "sweat-boxes"  for  a  few  days.  Here 
the  fruit  is  "evened  up,"  or  brought  to  the  requi- 
site condition  for  the  final  step.  On  removal  from 
the  sweat-box  the  bunches  are  assorted  into  Layers, 
London  Layers,  and  Loose  Muscatels.  From  this 
last  grade  the  Riverside  Packing  Company  selects 
the  small  seedless  raisins  and  rates  them  as  "Seed- 
less Sultanas,"  though  not  one  of  them  is  the  fruit 
of  a  Sultana  vine.  Some  parties  cull  from  the  trays, 
before  the  turning,  such  stems  as  will  rank  as 
London  Layers,  and  place  them  on  separate  trays, 
where  they  may  dry  uniformly. 

After  the  distribution    into  classes,  the    raisins 


'■m 


fi    .      ■■'•[■S-'.- 


iff 


i 

1 

It 

i 

1 

H^ 

i 

1 

^B 

1 

1 

H 

1 

i 

1 

H 

I 

PP 

• 

192 


CALIFORNIA. 


are  weighed  into  parcels  of  five  pounds  each.  The 
packer  then  presses  each  packag«  into  close  shape, 
places  it  in  a  mold  of  proper  size,  puts  that  under 
a  lever-press  until  the  fruit  is  quite  compact,  when 
he  drops  it,  wrapped  in  fine  white  paper,  into  the 
box  in  which  it  is  to  go  to  market.  Raisin-boxes 
are  graded  in  sizes  to  hold  two-and-a-half,  five,  ten, 
and  twenty  pounds  each.  The  last  are  known  as 
whole  boxes,  and  always  contain  four  of  the  five- 
pound  packages. 

The  yield  of  raisins  from  the  vicinity  of  River- 
side is  very  great.  In  1883  it  amounted  to  sixty 
thousand  boxes.  At  that  time  most  of  the  vine- 
yards had  about  half  reached  maturity.  Thirty- 
three  tons  per  acre,  or  two  thousand  two  hundred 
and  thirty  trays,  each  averaging  twenty  pounds, 
was  the  product  of  Mr.  Backus's  young  vineyard 
that  year.  Of  course,  the  harvest  has  vastly  in- 
creased since  that  time. 

California  raisin-makers  have  learned  that  vines 
permitted  to  overbear,  produce  an  inferior  quality 
of  fruit,  a  much  finer  flavor  being  obtained  when 
prodigality  of  production  is  checked.  It  is  said 
that  for  a  prime  quality  of  raisins,  the  Malaga 
grower,  who  received  the  award  for  the  best  raisins 
shown  at  the  Philadelphia  Centennial,  allows  his 
vines  to  produce  only  two  pounds  of  fruit  each. 


sid 
rel 


XXIII. 

(i)hb   ^igos  and  iphb   sui^i^endbi^  op 
€5ahlibnga. 


IMMEDIATELY  after  my  return  from  my  jaunt 
to  Riverside,  I  met  at  her  pleasant  home,  near 
the  First  Presbyterian  Church,  in  Los  Angeles,  a 
daughter  of  General  Andrez  Pico,  the  Mexican 
officer  who  surrendered  to  Captain,  now  General 
J.  C.  Fremont,  in  1848,  if  I  am  correct — I  write 
from  memory  as  to  the  date — the  famous  Cahuenga 
Pass,  a  rudely  fortified  position  some  nine  miles 
from  the  city,  in  the  San  Fernando  Mountains. 
This  event  in  the  history  of  Southern  California  is 
one  of  which  a  stranger  in  this  part  of  the  State 
often  hears.  And  it  is  not  an  infrequent  thing  for 
such  to  be  asked: 

"Have  you  visited  the  Cahuenga  Pass  yet?" 
Having  answered  my  share  of  such  interrogato- 
ries in  the  negative,  and  hoping  to  obtain  from  this 
daughter  a  correct  version  of  the  action  at  Cahu- 
enga, I  called  at  her  home.  The  lady,  loyal  to  the 
Pico  blood  in  her  veins,  was  aifable  in  manner,  and 
nppcared  interested  in  my  errnnd. 

She   had  "often  heard  the  story — the  Mexican 
side  of  it — but,  unfortunately,  her  memory  was  not 

reliable;   and,  besides,  Mexican  women  were    not 

183 


„;,     r 


II 


"^ 


im^  ■ 


K    f 


194 


CALIFORNIA. 


accustomed  to  remember  those  matters  ns  the  Amer- 
lean  women  do."  Then  she  urged  me  to  "  see  her 
uncle,  Don  Pio  Pico,  at  his  residence  in  the  old 
quarter  of  the  city,"  or  to  call  "upon  Colonel 
Warner,  a  life-long  friend  of  Don  Pio.  Either  of 
those  gentlemen  could  tell  exactly  how  Cahuenga 
was  delivered  up  to  the  Americans  by  her  father." 
So  wending  my  way  through  High  Street, 
until  I  came  to  a  long,  low,  adobe  house,  stand- 
ing back  some  little  distance  from  the  corner  of 
Castellar  Street,  in  that  part  of  the  city  called 
Sonoratown,  I  inquired  of  a  Mexican  woman  in 
the  yard  if  the  place  were  the  residence  of  Don 
Pio  Pico. 

"It  is,"  she  replied,  "but  he  is  not  here.  He  is 
at  Ranchita,  his  country  home,  a  few  miles  out  of 
the  city,  and  comes  in  to-morro"  But  walk  in, 
and  I  will  find  the  Senora  Ortega,  the  sister  of  Don 
Pio,  who  will  be  glad  to  see  you,  although  she 
speaks  little  English." 

While  the  Woman  kindly  sought  the  Senora,  who 
was  employed  in  the  domestic  apartments  of  the 
house,  I  took  note  of  the  surroundings.  The  house 
stands  in  an  ample  yard,  fenced  with  boards,  at  the 
base  of  the  high  hill  which  terminates  Fort  Street, 
near  Temple.  A  long  piazza  finishes  the  eastern 
side.  Upon  this  open  the  five  or  six  rooms,  all  on 
the  ground-floor,  which  compose  the  dwelling. 
Externally  and   internally  it  is  far  from   palatial. 


THE  SnilHENDKR  OF  CAIWKNGA. 


195 


Tlie  npartmeHt  which  Kcrvcs  as  a  family  sitting- 
room  and  parlor  for  guests,  is  innocent  of  carpet, 
except  that  a  short  strip  of  tapestry  Brussels  answers 
the  purpose  of  a  rug  in  front  of  the  sofa.  A  cou- 
ple of  small  stands,  a  willow  chair  or  two,  ant  i 
set  of  furniture  upholstered  in  green  reps,  frtlod 
and  worn,  with  the  wood-work  stained  to  initate 
losewood.  '  ender  the  place  home-like,  a  variety  df 
bright  ornaments  and  fixtures  on  the  \vhitc  wall 
adding  to  this  effect.  Every  thing  was  m  perfect 
order,  and  the  house  scrupulously  clean  throughout, 
showing  that  Mrs.  Ortega  is  a  good  housekeeper. 

Presently  in  came  the  lady,  small,  homely, 
wrinkled,  aged  seventy-four,  ignorant  of  English, 
but  very  courteous  and  quick  to  understand.  From 
a  niece  who  accompanied  her — the  Mrs.  Perkins, 
of  Santa  Barbara,  of  whom  I  have  already  spoken — 
I  learned  that  Mrs.  Ortega  is  one  of  a  family  of 
eleven  children,  of  whom  eight  were  daughters,  and 
of  whom  only  three  survive,  herself,  a  sister  in 
Santa  Barbara,  aged  eighty-eight,  and  Don  Pio 
Pico,  now  eighty-four,  each  one  being  remarkably 
active  and  hale.  The  Picos  are  native  Californians, 
but  of  true  Spanish  descent,  ard  in  intellectual 
qualities  surpass  the  average  of  the  race. 

The  father  of  the  family  was  a  corporal  in  the 
Spanish  army.  At  the  beginning  of  this  century 
he  was  stationed  at  the  well-known  Mission  of  San 
Gabriel,  where  he  died  many  years  ago.     His  eldest 


i^^^g^WB.'  ^.-r*^ 


196 


CALIFORNIA. 


w    m 


1:^1 


son,  Jose  Antonio  Pico,  was  an  office*'  in  the  Mex- 
ican army,  from  his  early  manhood  until  the  acces- 
sion of  California,  and  reached  the  grade  of  lieu- 
tenant. 

The  youngest  son,  Andrez  Pico,  was  also  an 
officer  in  that  army,  and  attained  the  rank  of  gen- 
eral. It  was  he  who  figured  as  the  Mexican  com- 
mander in  a  sharp  conflict  with  a  force  of  American 
infantry,  under  one  Captain  Gray,  at  San  Pasqual, 
in  December,  1846,  and  soon  afterwards,  in  con- 
ducting the  negotiations  preliminary  thereto,  and 
concluding  the  famous  treaty  of  Cahuenga,  with 
Captain  Fremont.  On  the  part  of  the  Mexican 
leader,  the  last  affair  was  a  brilliant  achievement, 
in  which,  according  to  some  authorities,  he  com- 
pletely outgeneraled  the  American  officer.  The 
substance  of  a  graphic  account  of  the  event,  as 
contained  in  the  "Reminiscences  of  a  Ranger,"  by 
Major  Horace  Bell,  is  here  appended  : 

"  As  Colonel  Fremont  approached  Cahuenga, 
frowning  artillery  confronting  him  from  the  intrcnch- 
ments,  he  was  met  with  a  flag  of  truce  from  Gen- 
eral Pico  wlthii'  the  stronghold.  A  pailey  ensued, 
and  the  treaty  of  Cahuenga  was  the  result.  Repre- 
senting the  Republic  of  Mexico,  Pico  proposed  to 
disband  his  force,  the  officers  retaining  their  pri- 
vate arms;  to  deliver  to  Captain  Fremont  all  the 
arms  and  munitions  of  war  at  the  Pass,  and  to 
permit  the  latter  to  march,  witho  '.t  opposition,  into 


U 


THE  SUIiRENDER  OF  CAHUENGA. 


197 


the  city  of  Los  Angeles,  on  condition  that  he — 
General  Pico — should  have  two  hours  in  which  to 
make  his  preparations  and  retire  his  force  from  the 
fort,  after  which  the  American  commander  might 
march  in  and  take  possession. 

"On  his  part  Colonel  Fremont  agreed  that  the 
Mexican  force  should  be  allowed  to  retire  peaceably 
to  their  homes,  and  there  remain  unmolested;  and 
also  that  certain  Mexican  officers  who  had  violated 
their  paroles  in  the  preceding  September,  should  be 
pardoned.  Having  affixed  their  signatures  to  the 
treaty,  each  commander  retaining  a  copy.  General 
Pico,  at  the  head  of  about  forty  men,  withdrew 
from  the  fort,  and  the  Americans  marched  in. 

"  The  spoils,  which  by  this  treaty  passed  out  of 
the  hands  of  humbled  Mexico,  were  two  batteries 
of  artillery,  consisting  of  a  dozen  live-oak  logs, 
mounted  on  as  many  native  corretas ;  one  venerable 
blunderbuss,  the  date  of  which,  engraved  upon  it, 
suggested  service  at  the  siege  of  Granada;  two  flint- 
lock Spanish  holster-pistols,  and  forty  Mexican 
ox-goads,  with  gay  pennons  attached." 

Don  Andreas  Pico  is  said  to  have  been  a  great 
humorist,  and  to  have  taken  much  delight  in  laugh- 
ing over  his  Quaker  demonstrations  at  Cahuenga. 
During  the  governorship  of  General  Micheltoreno 
over  Cilifornia,  General  Pico  was  his  aid-de-camp. 
After  the  acquirement  of  the  province  by  the 
United  States,  he  held  several  responsible  positions 


'I' 


'<  > 


'I    I 


i 


•! 


I    t 


'mm 


198 


CALIFORNIA. 


m: 


mil 


m 


!■'■■' 

m 


U.l' 


under  both  the  State  and  general  governments. 
And  subsequent  to  the  admission  of  California  into 
the  Union,  he  represented  tiie  county  of  Los  An- 
geles in  the  State  General  Assembly,  and  the 
Southern  District  of  California  in  the  Sermte.  He 
was  a  man  who  had  many  friends.  His  demise 
occurred  some  nine  years  ago. 

The  surviving  brother,  Don  Pio  Pico,  seems  not 
to  have  had  a  taste  for  military  life ;  or  if  so,  the 
circumstances  of  his  youth  precluded  his  enter- 
ing the  Mexican  army.  He  however  became  prom- 
inent in  the  political  changes  which  took  place  in 
California,  from  about  the  year  1831  onward  to 
1846.  From  a  warm  personal  friend  of  the  gentle- 
man, I  have  the  following  facts  in  his  career: 

In  his  youth  he  had  but  narrow  opportunities 
for  education.  He  however  learned  to  read  and 
write  well  in  Spanish,  and  acquired  a  good  knowl- 
edge of  arithmetic.  In  early  manhood,  his  father 
having  died,  he  was  left  without  patrimony,  to 
j)rovide  for  his  widowed  mother  and  several  sisters. 
But  he  proved  himself  an  admirable  manager,  and 
accumulated  property  until,  at  the  age  of  forty-five, 
he  had  the  reputation  throughout  Southern  Califor- 
nia of  l)eing  a  wealthy  man.  At  that  period,  1845, 
himself  and  his  brother  Andrez  were  joint  proprie- 
tors of  the  magnificent  rancho  of  Santa  Margarita, 
in  San  Diego  County.  The  property  comprised 
ninety  thousand  acres.     There  roamed  upon  it  from 


THE  SURRENDER  OF  CAHUENGA. 


199 


six  to  eight  thousand  head  of  cattle,  common  prop- 
erty also. 

In  addition  to  this  Don  Pio  Pico  was  the  sole 
owner  of  a  valuable  estate  situated  in  Los  Angeles 
County,  some  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  from  the 
city,  and  called  Ranchila.  This  he  still  retains, 
spending  most  of  his  time  upon  it.  Subsequently 
he  acquired  considerable  property  in  Los  Angeles, 
the  site  on  which  the  *'Pico  House"  now  stands, 
and  that  building  itself,  being  a  part  of  it. 

In  1834,  Mr.  Pico,  having  become  attached  to 
a  young  Spanish  woman  by  the  name  of  Maria  Ig- 
nacia  Alvarado,  entered  the  matrimonial  state.  The 
lady  was  a  distinguished  beauty,  and  a  person  of 
fascinating  manners.  Speaking  of  her  yesterday,  a 
Spanish  woman  who  knew  her  well  said  to  me: 

"You  should  have  seen  her.  Words  can  not 
express  her  looks,  nor  her  charming  ways  when  she 
conversed  with  people.  She  smiled  the  most  sweetly 
of  all  women." 

Twenty-four  years  have  ])assed  away  since  this 
lovely  woman  died,  leaving  no  children.  Tenderly 
cherishing  her  memory.  Governor  Pico  has  never 
married  again.  At  that  time  it  was  quite  the  cus- 
tom among  Mexican  women,  as  it  now  is,  to  smoke 
cigarettes.  Mrs.  Pico  is  said  to  have  indulged  in 
this  practice  occasionally.  But  her  husband  carried 
tlie  habit  to  excess,  being  an  almost  constant 
smoker.     The  friend  I  am  quoting  in  this  particu- 


Hi 
'i       • 

!!  ii 


m 


Wif! 


■IHS^B!^^^ 


■BH 


200 


CALIFORNIA. 


lar  states  that  one  day  tliiring  the  lady's  final  ill- 
ness, herself  and  Don  Pio  were  enjoying  their 
cigarettes .  together,  when  she  was  seized  with  a 
terrible  rigor,  which  terminated  in  death  in 
about  an  hour.  "  From  that  day  to  the  present," 
said  my  informant,  "Don  Pio  Pico  has  never 
smoked." 

Upon  the  expulsion  of  Governor  Micheltoreno, 
as  the  executive  of  California,  in  1839,  I  think, 
Mr.  Pico,  by  virtue  of  being  the  senior  member  of 
the  California  Legislature,  became  ex-officio  gov- 
ernor of  the  province.  Afterward  he  was  elected 
and  appointed  "Governor  of  the  Department  of  the 
Californias,"  as  provided  under  the  Constitution  of 
Mexico.  This  position  he  retained  until  the  trans- 
fer of  what  is  now  the  State  of  California  to  the 
United  States,  August  14,  1846.  During  his  ad- 
ministration the  city  of  Los  Angeles  was  the  seat 
of  government.  Just  preceding  its  occupation  by 
the  American  forces,  Governor  Pico  judged  it  pru- 
dent, for  political  reasons,  to  withdraw  from  his 
capital.  Retiring  to  Lower  "California,  he  crossed 
thence  to  the  State  of  Sonora,  where  he  remained  in 
exile  until  some  time  in  '49  or  '50,  since  which  time 
he  has  resided  in  or  near  this  city. 

At  the  secularization  of  the  California  Missions 
by  the  Mexican  Government,  Don  Pio  Pico  was 
appointed  administrator  of  the  Mission  of  San  Luis 
Rey,  an  important  position,  and  one  he  maintained 


THE  SURRENDER  OF  CAHUENGA. 


201 


for  a  number'of  years.  About  the  same  time  Gen- 
eral Andrez  Pico  was  made  one  of  the  grantees  of 
the  magnificent  estate  belonging  to  the  INIission  of 
San  Fernando,  lying  in  the  fertile  valley  of  that 
name.  The  interest  in  this  property  also  was  held 
in  common  by  the  two  brothers.  After  a  time  Don 
Pio  acquired  his  brother's  claim  and  eventually 
sold  it  for  a  large  sum  of  money. 

For  years  past  the  Catholic  Church  has  been  at 
law  for  the  recovery  of  both  these  princely  domains, 
and  yesterday  morning  a  Catholic  priest  informed 
me,  with  a  somewhat  triumphant  air,  that  the  Church 
had  succeeded,  the  San  Fernando  property  having 
recently  fallen  into  her  hands. 

Don  Pio,  "  the  last  of  the  Picos,"  is  a  person 
who,  once  seen,  could  not  well  be  forgotten.  He 
is  of  medium  height,  stoutly  built,  with  straight 
shoulders,  full  face,  dark  eyes,  snowy  hair,  and 
brown  skin.  He  is  social,  charitable,  polished  in 
manners.  These  gifts  and  graces  win  him  the  high 
regard  of  all  acquaintances,  and  the  admiration  of 
his  kindred.  He  is  (uie  of  the  few  representatives 
remaining  of  the  Mexican  regime  in  California. 


!  -i » n 


XXIV. 


SiMB  Beguiles  XJois. 


A  SINGULAR  feature  of  life  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia is  the  apparent  rapid  flight  of  time. 
The  days  seem  to  come  and  go  on  the  wings  of  the 
wind.  A  very  short  sojourn  on  the  coast  suffices 
to  produce  this  impression.  Nor  is  it  made  only 
upon  the  strangers  who  tarry  but  for  a  Winter,  or  a 
year.  Even  old  residents  of  the  country  say  there 
is  something  remarkable  in  the  haste  with  which 
the  passing  |)art  of  eternity  speeds  by. 

**  Here  Time  waits  for  nobody,  I  assure  you," 
said  a  citizen  lately,  who  had  enjoyed  the  Pacific 
breeze  for  twelve  years.  "  I  used  to  wonder  if  this 
impression,  of  no  length  to  the  days,  would  not  wear 
off'  aftei-  a  while  ;  but  I  see  no  difference.  Slow 
time  must  have  gone  out  with  the  dreaming  Mex- 


icans 


)} 


Said  a  lady  from  Chicago  to  the  writer  a  few 
days  since:  "  What  an  alarming  hurry  the  days  are 
in  on  this  strange  coast!  It  is  noon  before  sun- 
rise, and  night  before  midday.  I  have  the  feeling 
all  the  while,  that  I  must  in  some  way  chain  the 
time  until  I  can  accomplish  something." 

My  own   experience   confirms    these  statements. 
202 


'\u 


TIME  BEGUILES  YOU. 


203 


Eight  mouths  have  elapsed  since  my  entrance  into 
this  old  Spanish  town,  yet,  should  I  be  informed 
that  half  that  number  is  the  real  length  of  time,  1 


*P*OM 


Time  Beguiles. 


should  accept  the  announcement  as  correct.  Even 
young  persons,  for  whom  Father  Time,  accoutercd 
with    hour-glass  and   scythe,   is   usually    much    too 


,  •  1 


1 


'•a 


vw 


204 


CALIFORNIA. 


V'' 


ill!; 

j'l 


3I0W,  appear  to  be  quite  satisfied  with  the  progress 
the  quaint  oV\  fellow  makes  in  the  Golden  State. 

How  to  account  for  this  influence  is  difficult. 
There  seems  to  exist  in  the  country  a  something 
which  cheats  the  senses.  Whether  it  be  in  the  air,  * 
the  sunshine,  in  the  ocean  breeze,  or  in  all  these 
combined,  I  can  not  say.  Certainly  the  climate  is 
not  the  home-made,  common-sense  article  of  the 
ante-Rocky  Mountain  States.  It  is  a  product  ot 
consummate  art.  There  is  a  variety  in  the  even- 
ness of  tl»e  weather,  and  a  strange  evenness  in  this 
variety,  which  throws  an  unreality  around  life,  and 
not  more,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  in  the  case  of  per- 
sons especially  affected  by  climatic  influences  than 
of  those  whose  feelings  do  not  rise  and  fall  with  the 
thermometer.  All  alike  walk  and  work  in  a  dream. 
Something  beguiles,  deludes,  plays  falsely  with  the 
senses.  Were  only  the  aged,  or  the  ill,  or  the  sor- 
rowful, subjects  of  the  influence,  the  matter  would 
be  less  worthy  of  remark.  But  since  old  and 
young,  sad  and  happy,  are  its  victims,  there  is 
some  ground  for  the  attention  I  am  giving  the 
subject. 

It  appears  to  make  trifling  difference  in  the  case 
how  closely  one  applies  one's  self.  The  effect  is  the 
same.  I  seat  myself  to  write  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  In  an  incredibly  short  time  it  is  one 
o'clock.  I  realize  that  I  am  hungry.  I  take  my 
light  dinner  of  bread  and  peaches,  and  return  to  my 


TIME  BEGUILES  YOU. 


205 


task.  Ere  I  am  aware  the  sun  is  dropping  into 
the  Pacific.  I  find  m}'oelf  unspeakably  tired,  but 
have  had  no  appreciation  of  the  passage  of  the  day. 
Had  I  been  at  home,  on  the  southern  shore  of  much 
maligned  Lake  Erie,  I  should  have  "sensed"  the 
going  by  of  nine  honest,  substantial  hours,  though 
I  had  been  just  as  busy.  Now,  I  am  not  finding 
fault  with  this  state  of  things.  I  rather  like  it.  I 
think  all  the  people  do.  It  is  in  keeping  with 
every  thing  else  on  this  coast.  Every  thing  is  new 
and  peculiar  and  wonderful. 

A  friend  under  this  roof  says  she  has  "  dreamed 
away  eleven  years  in  this  city,  since  bidding  adieu 
to  the  rigor  of  Michigan  Winters,"  and,  so  far  as 
her  "realizing  its  length  is  concerned,  the  time 
might  as  well  have  been  two  years  as  eleven."  She 
declares  that  frequently  upon  awakening  in  the 
morning,  she  has  to  ask  herself  what  day  of  the  week 
it  is,  and  sometimes  what  season  of  the  year,  so 
uncertain  is  she  as  to  just  where  the  time  is.  This 
suggests  that  indefinite  ideas  of  the  days  and  seasons 
are  due,  certainly  in  part,  to  the  slight  change 
which  marks  the  seasons.  Scores  upon  scores. of 
days  are  alike  as  to  warmth,  brightness,  and  beauty. 
Flowers  bloom  the  year  round.  Most  of  the  trees 
wear  a  changeless  dress. 

18 


(     '  hi 


'  ^i 


,  i     >'i^  * 


206  CALIFORNIA. 

DO  THEY   NEVER   SLEEP? 

Another  strange  characteristic  of  the  country  is 
the  sleeplessness  of  the  fowls  and  dogs.  I  can  not 
remember  to  have  wakened  once  in  the  night  since 
ray  advent  into  Los  Angeles,  when  a  multitude  of 
these  creatures  were  not  doing  their  "level  best"  to 
excel  in  exercising  their  vocal  organs.  The  result, 
of  course,  is  an  intense  and  wide-spread  din,  a  great 
volume  of  crowings  and  barkings.  The  air  is  filled 
with  the  music,  and  sleep  is  driven  to  the  mount- 
ains, or  out  to  sea. 

However,  in  this  respect  California  can  not  hold 
a  candle — excuse  the  expression — to  old-new  Ari- 
zona. During  a  week  spent  in  the  unique  but 
interesting  city  of  Tucson  last  Winter,  a  small  col- 
ony of  fowls  was  "corraled"  in  the  court  of  the 
house  in  which  I  lodged.  A  window  of  my  room, 
which  I  was  obliged  to  have  open  at  night  for  fresh 
air,  opened  upon  this  court.  Those  feathered  people 
must  have  understood  that  I  was  a  stranger  in  the 
land  of  silver  and  gold,  and  have  desired  to  give 
me  a  cordial  welcome,  for  every  night,  presumably 
at  great  cost  of  comfort  to  themselves,  they  arranged 
an  all-night  concert  for  my  entertainment.  Several 
neighboring  companies  joined  heartily  in  the  cho- 
ruses, and  with  such  force  as  to  convince  me  that 
the  domestic  bird  of  Arizona  excels  the  world  in 
vocal  talent.     I  can  account  for  the  steady  nightly 


gra 


A   THUNDER  SHOWER  IN  MIDSUMMFAi.     207 

music  of  the  Los  Angeles  fowls,  on  the  ground  that 
the  city  is  so  well  lighted  that  they  can  not  distin- 
guish nigiit  from  day,  but  why  those  of  Arizona 
should  never  sleep  is  a  mystery. 

A  THUNDER   SHOWER   IN   MIDSUMMER. 

About  mid-afternoon  yesterday,  several  unusual 
sounds  caused  the  citizens  to  step  quickly  to  the 
doors  and  take  a  look  at  the  sky.  These  rare 
noises  were  simply  a  few  moderate;  ])eals  of  thunder. 
It  being  Sunday,  nu)st  of  the  week-day  clamor  was 
hushed.  Thus  were  the  tones  from  the  heavens  all 
the  more  distinct  and  startling.  Not  more  sur- 
prised, though  undoubtedly  more  alarmed,  would 
the  people  have  been  had  the  notes  been  the  pre- 
monitions of  an  earthquake.  A  sensible  daughter  in 
the  household,  looking  up  from  her  book,  said: 

"Well,  we  have  lived  in  this  city  eleven  years, 
and  this  is  the  first  time  I  have  heard  thunder  in 
Summer.  We  occasionally,  in  Winter,  hear  such 
reminders  of  our  Michigan  home,  but  never  after 
April."     It  was  then  the  4th  of  August. 

A  lady  residing  in  San  Bernardino  affirms  that 
it  was  the  first  time  she  had  listened  to  such  music 
in  midsummer,  during  a  sojourn  of  thirteen  years  in 
Southern  California.  These  remarks  attest  the  rar- 
ity of  electrical  phenomena  on  this  part  of  the  coast. 
But  Nature  must  certainly  have  changed  her  pro- 
gramme for  1884,  for  1  have  heard  peals  of  thunder 


.M 


'il 


208 


CALIFORNIA. 


on  (itvcral  occasions  since  the  Winter  rains,  one  as 
late  as  June  and — I  am  not  keeping  a  meteorological 
record,  and  so  may  be  mistaken — another  in  July. 

Happening  to  be  seated  beside  a  window  over- 
looking the  Los  Angeles  Valley,  picturesque  with 
its  groves  of  eucalypti  and  orange  trees  in  the  dis- 
tance, I  turned  my  eyes  toward  the  sea  after  the 
tones  rolled  through  the  heavens.  Sure  enough! 
there  were  unmistakable  signs  of  a  shower,  and  soon 
down  came  the  welcome  rain,  delighting  every  body. 
Even  the  little  birds  were  gleeful.  Shortly  then, 
uprose  the  sweet  odors  from  the  ground,  the  flowers, 
and  trees.  The  dust  nicely  laid,  the  dark  cloud 
swept  oflF  northward,  hovering  awhile  over  the  sum- 
mits of  the  San  Fernando  Mountains,  and  flashing 
out  its  crooked  ribbons  of  fire. 

"When  he  uttereth  his  voice  there  is  a  multi- 
tude of  waters  in  the  heavens."  "He  maketh 
lightnings  with  rain  and  bringeth  forth  the  wind 
out  of  his  treasures." 


ea| 

si( 
wt 
li) 
Ai 

th 

gu| 

frc 
tril 


XXV. 

fl   CQlNISTBI^   TO   THE   LlOWLIBSm, 


''l^HE  present  Summer  ha«  witnessed  a  notable 
J.  revival  of  interest  in  the  early  Spanish  mis- 
sions of  Alta  California.  The  feeling  has  been  con- 
fined chiefly  within  the  State,  and  particularly  to 
the  Catholic  portion  of  the  citizens,  though  some 
concern  has  been  evinced  beyond  the  border  lines. 
The  cause  of  this  revival  was  the  recurrence,  on 
August  28th,  of  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of 
their  founder,  the  Rev.  Junipero  Serra,  D.  D. 

For  many  weeks  prior  to  that  date  the  corre- 
spondents of  the  Pacific ,  Coast  newspapers  were 
busy  searching  the  archives  and  records  of  that 
early  period ;  visiting  the  seats  of  the  various  mis- 
sions; writing  eloquent  descriptions  of  their  former 
wealth  and  present  decay,  and  catechising  the  oldest 
living  Spaniards,  as  well  as  the  earliest  pioneer 
Americans,  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  to  light  all 
the  history  of  these  stations  and  of  their  distin- 
guished superintendent. 

How  much  of  permanent,  practical  good  resulted 
from  the  labors  of  this  man  among  the  wild  Indian 

tribes   whom   he  and  his  assistants  found  peopling 

209 


ii  ;  pJ 


210 


CALIFORNIA. 


!ii: 


.-'■'1 


this  coast,  and  whom  they  subjugated  in  the  name 
of  tlic  gospel  and  of  the  king  of  Spain,  only  a 
careful  and  impartial  consideration  of  his  methods, 
and  of  their  immediate  and  later  fruits,  can  deter- 
mine. Certain  it  is,  that  viewed  from  this  distance 
of  time,  and  in  the  light  of  the  fact  that  the  tribes 
began  to  waste  away  almost  from  the  hour  the  effort 
was  inaugurated,  those  fifty  or  sixty  years  of  Cath- 
olic attempt  at  uplifting  and  Christianizing  the  un- 
tutored race,  form  not  a  very  satisfactory  chapter 
in  the  history  of  civilization. 

Nevertheless,  the  entire  history  of  the  period 
attests  the  fact  that  the  Padre  Junipero  Serra  him- 
self ardently  desired  to  be  a  true  missionary  of  the 
cross  and  messenger  of  blessing  to  the  rude  red 
man.  And  if  his  work  failed  at  all  of  the  ends  he 
sought,  it  should  be  attributed  most  to  the  methods 
and  the  paralyzing  genius  of  the  ecclesiastical 
power  to  which  he  was  responsible.  The  eminent 
man  lacked  neither  love  for  the  Indian  nor  devotion 
to  his  work.  This,  all  Californians  concede,  regard- 
less of  sect  or  creed.  And  unquestionably  it  was 
in  reference  to  him,  as  a  man  who  desired  the  good 
of  the  lowest  of  his  race,  and  not  as  a  priest  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  thsit  the  citizens  of  the  State, 
rather  generally,  were  interes*^ed  in  the  step  to  honor 
his  mvjmory.  His  name  is  inseparable  from  the 
early  history  of  California,  and  in  his  personal 
record    is   the   attraction  of  a   spirit  of  great  self- 


A  MINISTER  OF  THE  LOWLIEST. 


211 


denial.  For  these  reasons  I  take  notice  of  this 
passing  movement. 

Junipero  Serra  was  a  native  of  the  Island  of 
Majorca,  Spain,  having  been  born  November  24, 
1713.  He  was  sn?iall  in  stature,  of  feeble  constitu- 
tion, and  "  possessed  a  great  love  for  books."  Re- 
ligiously inclined,  he  at  the  early  age  of  seventeen 
applied  to  the  oi'der  of  Franciscans  for  membership. 
A  year  later  he  was  admitted  to  full  companionship 
in  the  fraternity,  and  addressed  himself  to  the  study 
of  theology  and  philosophy,  soon  excelling  as  a 
teacher  of  these  s'lbjects.  Immediately,  also,  he 
became  celebrated  as  a  pulpit  orator,  but,  indifferent 
to  the  applause  of  city  communities,  he  craved  the 
privilege  of  preaching  the  gospel  to  the  peasantry, 
especially  desiring  to  minister  to  any  who  had  never 
heard  its  conditions. 

With  this  object  in  view  he  sailed  for  the  New 
World,  from  Cadiz,  August  28,  1749,  and  entered 
Mexico  on  New- Year's  Day,  1750.  Beginning 
missionary  labors  at  once,  and  with  great  ardor,  his 
name  qui'^kly  became  known  in  the  Catholic  Church 
of  Mexico.  After  seventeen  years  of  service  in 
that  part  of  the  country,  he  was  appointed  president 
of  the  fifteen  missions  then  existing  in  the  Penin- 
sula of  California,  and  which  had  been  founded  by 
the  Order  of  Jesuits,  whom  the  government  had 
just  expelled.  Here  Serra  found  a  field  as  needy, 
a  people  as  abjoc;t,  as  he  cculd  wish  for  his  training 


I  ' 


•li 


;  \    ; 


i'l': 


212 


CALIFORNIA. 


hand.  It  proved  a  territory  far  more  difficult  to 
cultivate  than  any  the  scholarly  prelate  had  known, 
and  in  the  cjurse  of  time  it  was  turned  over  to  the 
Dominicans.  Then,  himself  and  sixteen  subordi- 
nates set  out  on  a  missionary  tour  among  the 
heathen  tribes  of  Alta  California. 


Ruina  ol  Mission  Churah,  San  Diego. 

Reaching  the  point  on  the  coast  where  to-day 
stands  the  city  of  San  Diego,  seventeen  miles  north 
of  the  present  frontier  of  Mexico,  he  there  estab- 
lished, July  16,  1769,  the  first  of  the  series  of 
twenty-one  missions  embraced  in  what  is  now  the 
State  of  California.  The  last  of  the  series,  that  of 
San  Francisco  de  Solano,  was  erected  August  25, 
1823.  Ten  years  later  this  mission  invoiced  its 
possessions    as   follows:    "Indian    converts,   fifteen 


"IvJi^LiU.., 


.1   MfNISTEK  OF  THE  LOWJ.lEiST. 


213 


hundred;  cattle  and  horses,  thirty-five  hundred; 
goats  and  hogs,  four  thousand;  fruits  and  grain, 
three  thousand  bushels.  Nineteen  years  afterward, 
or  in  1842,  there  were,  it  is  said,  hut  seventy  Indians 
amenable  to  this  mission. 

From  San  Diego,  whose  mission  church  still 
stands,  unroofed,  with  its  walls  crumbling  to  ruin, 
Father  Serra  moved  northward  to  the  lovely  bay  of 
Monterey.  Here,  June  3,  1770,  ho  planted  his  sec- 
ond station,  at  the  head  of  that  sheet  of  water. 
Twelve  months  later  the  mission  was  transferred  to 
the  beautiful  Carmelo  Valley,  some  five  miles  down 
the  coast  from  Monterey.  Here,  in  time,  rose  a 
church  edifice,  a  house  for  the  priests,  and  barracks 
for  the  mission's  handful  of  military  protectors. 
These  were  all  built  of  wood,  and  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  church,  were  covered  with  tulos.  The 
latter  was  roofed  simply  with  earth. 

From  Carmelo  it  is  claimed  that  Serra  exploreil 
the  coast  as  far  northward  as  the  fifty-lifth  parallel, 
taking  possession,  "in  the  name  of  the  Church  and 
the  King  of  Spain,"  of  all  the  territory  comj)rised 
in  California,  Oregon,  and  Washington.  Returning 
to  the  mission  on  the  Little  Carmelo  River;  he  there 
filled  up  the  remainder  of  his  days  with  self-denying 
labors  among  the  surrounding  Indian  tribes;  and 
there,  greatly  lamented  by  the  simple-minded  na- 
tives   to   whom   ho    had    faithfully   ministered,   he 

breathed  his  last,  just  one  hundred  years  ago. 

19 


i  f  ■ 

1 


!  Mill 


I  \. 


I  mill 


214 


CALIFORNIA. 


By  his  special  request,  his  remains  were  Interred 
"in  the  sanctuary  of  the  church,  on  the  gospel  side 
of  the  altar."  In  the  progress  of  years  this  build- 
ing fell  into  dec.iy^  and  was  replaced  by  a  structure 
of  stone,  erected  on  the  same  site,  and  covering 
the  cherished  remains  of  Junipero  Serra.  In  turn 
this  edifice  also  lapsed  into  ruin ;  and  it  is  the 
question  of  its  restoration  which  has  this  Summer 
drawn  all  Catholic  eyes  toward  the  little  city  of 
Monterey. 

Recalling  that  the  centennial  of  the  great  mis- 
sionary's death  was  imminent,  the  pastor  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  at  Monterey,  "  was  moved  early 
in  the  season  to  ask  all  Californians,  irrespective  of 
creed  or  color,  to  show  respect  to  the  man's  mem- 
ory, by  handsomely  restoring  the  ruin  which  had 
so  long  served  as  a  monument  over  his  grave." 
The  newspapers  took  up  his  appeal;  talked  elo- 
quently of  the  sejf-donying  spirit  of  Padre  Junipero 
Serra;  of  his  manifold  services  to  California  and 
to  its  aboriginal  tribes;  of  the  fact  that  most  of  the 
missions  he  planted  are  well  on  the  way  to  decay, 
and  urged  that  the  church  at  Carmelo  should,  out 
of  gratitude,  be  preserved.  The  many  Spaniards, 
Mexicans,  and  other  Catholics  of  the  coast  were 
much  aroused  by  these  pleas,  and  contributed  liber- 
ally to  the  object.  Other  citizens  of  the  State  also 
aided  the  cause  generously. 

Sufficient  enthusiasm  having  been  awakened  to 


a 

fi 

b 

ol 

S 


A  MINISTER  OF  THE  LOWLIEST. 


215 


insure  success,  the  work  of  renovation  began,  and  in 
good  time  was  completed.  On  the  28th  of  August^ 
1884,  the  old-new  monument  church  was  blessed 
with  the  customary  Catliolic  ceremonial,  many  dig- 
nitaries of  the  Church  being  present,  as  were  some 
State  officials,  and  a  large  concourse  of  other  per- 
sons. The  ceremonies  were  of  both  a  civic  and 
religious  character. 

The  renewal  of  the  building  was  eifected  at  a 
cost  of  sixteen  thousand  dollars,  and  now  presents 
a  curious  mingling  of  ancient  and  modern  archi- 
tecture and  decoration.  The  structure  really  serves 
the  double  purpose  of  a  house  of  worship  and  a 
mausoleum.  Upon  the  hearts  of  the  Catholics  the 
spot  lias  a  great  hold.  Through  his  whole  life,  I 
believe,  Junipero  Serra  was  a  subject  of  great  per- 
sonal suffering,  rendering  his  work  all  the  more 
arduous.  Certain  it  is  that  most  of  his  days  in 
California  were  passed  in  physical  agony,  which  was 
partly  the  result  of  a  frail  constitution,  and  partly 
the  fruit  of  exposure  in  founding  the  missions. 

Of  the  twenty-one  missions  planted  in  Upper 
California,  nine  are  said  to  have  been  established 
by  Serra  in  person.  These  were,  besides  the  two 
already  named,  that  of  San  Juan  Capistrano,  the 
first  station  north  of  San  Diego ;  that  of  San  Ga- 
briel, lying  twelve  miles  east  of  Los  Angeles,  in  one 
of  the  garden  spots  of  Southern  California;  that  of 
San  Buona  Ventura  near  the  sea-board,  twenty-seven 


^ 

,r1 

!;|8  : 

:   :| 

'  m 

:!'  •! 

i 

:^^^ 

'ifT- 


jfFirriTTii 


II 


216 


CALIFORNIA. 


miles  south  of  Santa  Bar)  ara;  that  of  Santa  Barbara 
itself — if  I  remember  correctly — one  of  the  richest 
of  the  series;  that  of  San  Antonio,  located  on  the 


Ruins,  San  Juan  Capiatrano. 

bank  of  a  fine  stream  some  miles  from  Soledad ; 
that  of  San  Luis  Obispo,  in  the  heart  of  the  town 
of  that  name,  and  that  of  Santa  Clara,  three  miles 
from  San  Jose,  the  largest  and  best  preserved  of  the 
entire  list,  and  once  surrounded  by  vast  productive 
acres.  The  church  of  San  Juan  Capistrano  is  de- 
scribed as  a  splendid  ruin.     It  was  demolished  by  an 


.'■'.'•  'iffHW'Wf' 


: !"  1 
'■,1 


A  MINISTER  TO  THE  LOWLIEST. 


217 


earthquake  one  morning  while  mass  was  being  cele- 
brated, and  the  building  was  thronged  with  wor- 
shipers. Thirty  persons  lost  their  lives,  and  many 
more  were  injured.  Services  have  always  been  held 
in  one  of  its  little  chapels.  "  A  priest  resides  there, 
and  ekes  out  a  scanty  living  by  renting  some  of  the 
crumbling  rooms." 

Establishiug  the  mission  of  San  Buena  Ventura 
was  Padre  Serra's  last  work  in  extending  the  realm 
of  the  Catholic  Church.  Twenty-eight  months 
later,  at  Carmelo,  he  entered  upon  his  final  sleep. 
The  Ventura  mission  was  founded  March  31, 
1782,  with  jurisdiction  over  fifteen  hundred  square 
miles  of  territory.  Before  the  seqiiestration  of  the 
missions  it  had  acquired  large  possessions  in  flocks 
and  herds. 

"  The  dominant  idea  in  that  really  imposing 
missionary  movement,"  said  a  gentleman  yesterday, 
who,  though  not  a  Catholic,  has  through  a  long  life 
been  closely  associated  with  members  of  that  body, 
and  has  observed  its  methods  of  extending  its 
power,  "was,  that  within  the  period  of  one  genera- 
tion at  most,  whole  tribes  of  the  rude,  idol-worshiping 
Indians  could,  under  the  teachings  of  the  Church, 
the  influence  of  the  priests,  and  the  restraints  of 
the  Spanish  soldiery,  be  transformed  into  perma- 
nently civilized  and  Christianized  societies.  It  was 
believed  they  could  then  be  left  to  pursue  works 
of  piety  and  arts  of  peace  under  a  civil  adminis- 


^.1  ■> 


218 


CALIFORNIA. 


trator.  The  fatal  defect  in  this  reasoning  was,  to 
speak  mildly,  forgctfulness  of  the  physiological  fact 
that  blood,  which  has  been  deteriorating  through 
centuries  of  time,  can  not  be  restored  to  prime 
quality  in  the  short  space  of  forty  or  fifty  years. 

"As  might  have  been  foreseen,  the  whole  scheme 
was  a  failure.  And  no  person  who  has  ever  written 
upon  the  swift  decadence  of  these  Indian  missions 
has  touched  the  real  cause.  This,  unquestionably, 
was  their  sequestration  by  the  Mexican  government. 
The  moment  the  supreme  control  which  the  mis- 
sionary fathers  exercised  over  the  neophytes  of 
their  respective  stations  was  superseded  by  the  rule 
of  secular  administrators,  that  moment  the  majority 
of  the  Indians  left  the  missions  and  returned  to  the 
haunts  of  their  ancestors,  or  sought  employment  on 
the  ranchos  of  citizens  friendly  to  them.  Every 
attempt  made  between  1830  and  1840  to  convert 
the  neophytes  into  free  and  property-holding  citi- 
zens, as  was  done  in  several  important  instances, 
proved  miserable  failures.  The  Indians  soon 
showed  that  they  had  not  acquired  the  power 
to  retain  the  property  left  in  their  hands,  nor  to 
obtain  more.  It  was  the  purpose  of  the  Mexican 
government  to  leave  in  the  hands  of  the  converts 
all  the  land  and  other  property  belonging  to  the 
missions,  as  an  outfit  at  ;he  beginning  of  their  self- 
governing  career.  But  in  a  brief  time  the  immense 
wealth  of  the  stations  was  irrevocably  scattered." 


'■•ly 


XXVI. 

PJosES— Pampas   Gi^ass— ©he  Datui^a 

fll^BOI^EA. 


ONE  of  the  chief  attractions  of  Southern  Cali- 
fornia is  its  ceaseless  production  of  beautiful 
flowers.  Some  of  those  which  bloom  the  year  round 
have  a  special  season  of  efflorescence — a  time  when 
they  reach  their  maximum  of  abundance  and  beauty. 
If  I  might  select  a  single  flower  of  which  this  is 
true,  I  should  name  the  rose.  The  month  of  May  is 
pre-eminently  the  rose  period  of  the  year,  although 
there  is  never  a  day  without  them,  and  never  a 
dearth  of  them. 

A  walk  at  evening,  during  this  month,  through 
some  of  the  streets  of  Los  Angeles  inevitably  brings 
to  mind  an  enchanting  story  about  the  Vale  of  Cash- 
mere, which  I  read  in  my  childhood,  in  the  State 
of  New  York.  It  was  the  power  of  contrast  which 
made  the  story  produce  its  inefiaceable  impression 
upon  my  mind.  I  read  it  in  midwinter.  The 
snow  covered  the  high  rail  fence  which  lined  the 
public  road  lending  to  the  country  school  which  I 
attended.  I  walked  to  school  on  the  crest  of  those 
snow-drifts.     I  read  it  before  a  great  fire  made  .of 

hickory  logs,  which  snapped  and  hissed  merrily  iu 

219 


'  -'ill 


.1-)  fc-,.^;K^ 


If 


br 


220 


CALIFORNIA. 


i 


1 ' 


the  big  fire-place.  The  heat  from  it  burned  my 
rouiul  face,  aiul  warped  the  leather  covers  of  the 
book.  ]Jnt  I  was  wandering  in  a  land  flooded  with 
sunshine,  full  of  bloom,  and  breathing  air  laden 
with  perfume.  I  wondered  if  the  story  were  true; 
if  I  should  ever  see  a  land  so  fair;  should  smell 
roses  so  fragrant.  Plappily  for  my  faith  in  that 
book,  I  now  see  roses  as  beautiful,  breathe  air 
as  highly  scented  as  ever  floated  over  the  sweet 
Vale  of  Cashmere. 

On  my  way  to  Presbyterian  prayer-meeting  on 
Wednesday  evenings  I  pass  a  beautifully  kept 
ground,  in  which  bloom,  probably,  a  dozen  varie- 
ties of  roses.  Among  them  are  the  Safrano,  the 
Solfaterre,  the  bright  Sanguinea,  and  the  delicious 
Marechal  Neil,  besides  five  or  six  pink  varieties, 
whose  exquisite  odor  no  language  can  describe. 
Clinibing  higher  than  any  of  the  others,  is  the  ele- 
gant Lamarque,  pouring  into  the  atmosphere  from 
hundreds  of  blossoms  a  delightful  perfume. 

If  I  am  alone,  the  moment  I  a})proach  that  yard 
I  begin  to  walk  slowly,  and  to  take  in  great 
draughts  of  the  fragrant  air.  When  opposite  some  of 
the  bushes  1  stand  still,  inhale  the  odor,  and  try  to 
think  what  the  perfume  of  flowers  is.  I  recall  all  the 
words  which  have  any  aroma  in  them,  and  neither 
singly  nor  together  do  they  express  what  I  want  to 
know.  So  I  walk  on,  wishing  it  were  a  mile  to  the 
church,  and  that  elegant  roses  lined  all  the  way. 


ROSES. 


221 


Yesterday  afternoon  an  errand  took  me  through 
Lower  Third  Street  to  Main.  On  one  side  stands  a 
fine  residence  in  the  midst  of  trees  and  fiowcrs.  At 
the  riglit  of  the  entrance  were  a  half-dozen  rose- 
trees,  four  or  five  feet  in  height.  The  flexible 
branches  bent  under  their  burden  of  bloom.  The 
warm  air  was  dense  with  the  mingled  odors  of  the 
flowers.  Separating  this  yard  from  its  neighbor 
was  a  high  fence.  Over  the  top  of  it  fi)r  many  feet, 
down  both  its  sides,  and  up  among  the  branches  of 
a  cypress  and  another  tree  standing  near,  climbed 
a  luxuriant  Lamarque  and  a  magnificent  Cloth  of 
Gold,  both  a  mass  of  flowers,  h\rge  and  very  double. 
It  was  a  sight  to  make  one  stop  and  look. 

In  the  adjoining  yard  was  a  cottage  finished,  with 
a  veVanda  across  the  front.  Uj)  the  pillars  of  the 
veranda,  and  over  its  roof  the  whole  length,  ran 
another  Lamarque  and  a  rich  Marechal  Neil.  The 
result  was  a  dense  surface,  from  three  to  foui  feet 
wide  by  forty  feet  long,  probably,  of  pure  white 
and  soft  vcIIdw  flowers,  the  whole  forming  the  most 
beautiful  display  of  living  roses  I  had  ever  seen.  In 
tlie  yard  stood  a  Safrano  rose-tree,  five  or  more  feet 
in  height,  and  canopied  with  blossoms  of  matchless 
scent.  Imagine  those  yards,  that  fence,  that  ve- 
randa! What  a  place  for  intoxicating  the  senses! 
What  a  pity  that  the  Chinese — Americans,  too — do 
not  smoke  rose-leaves! 

It   is  quite  customary  on  the  Coast  to  compel 


Il 


222 


CALIFORNIA. 


u  ■  ' 


rosc-bnshes  to  grow  in  the  f^)rm  of  small  trees. 
The  eiFect  is  very  pretty.  At  the  top  of  a  slender 
trunk  shoot  out  a  multitude  of  short  branches, 
forming  a  canopy  about  the  size  of  a  sun-umhrella. 
Here  the  vitality  centers,  and,  per  consequence,  the 
sprays  are  lavish  in  bloom.  •  At  the  same  time,  the 
strength  of  the  tree  is  well  husbanded,  for  the  mo- 
ment a  rose  begins  to  fade  it  is  removed,  if  ihe 
gardener  docs  his  duty. 

Not  far  from  where  I  write,  is  a  rose  tree,  with 
trunk  as  large  around  as  my  arm.  The  first 
branches  are  some  six  feet  above  the  ground,  and 
are  trimmed  to  present  a  flat  surface  to  the  sky. 
The  effect  is  an  even  plane  of  delicate  salmon-colored 
roses — a  novelty  even  in  Southern  California. 

A  very  charming  class  of  roses  to  be  seen  hero 
ai'>  the  Banksias.  There  are  three  varieties,  white, 
pink,  and  yellow,  all  bountiful  hlooniers  and  ex- 
ceedingly fragrant.  The  blossoms  are  about  the 
size  of  a  large  daisy,  and  utnjir.y  are  very  double. 
They  grow  with  astonishing  rapidity.  When  riding 
into  the  country  with  a  friend  not  long  ago,  she 
suddenly  exclaimed,  "Just  look!" 

Her  object  was  to  call  my  attention  to  a  white 
banksia,  which  had  climbed  into  the  feathery  top 
of  a  tall  cypress,  and  then  thrust  its  slender  sprays 
all  through  the  green  boughs,  so  that  they  fell 
toward  the  ground  on  the  side  next  the  street,  like 
a  veil  of  snow.     That,  too,  was  a  very  striking  sight. 


HOSES. 


22.3 


Among  the  flowers  which  diifiise  a  fine  perfume 
at  night,  as  well  as  during  the  day,  are  the  carna- 
tions, the  orange  blossoms,  and  the  large,  white, 
funnel-shaped  blossoms  of  the  Datura  Arborea,  a 
native  of  1\tu  and  Columbia.  The  flowers  consist 
of  two  corollas,  one  dropped  within  the  other,  as 
we  would  place  a  small  funnel  within  a  larger  one. 
Both  are  ruffled  slightly  at  the  mouth,  and  remind 
one  of  the  calla  lily,  but  are  far  more  delicate  in 
texture.  They  hang  pendulous  from  the  branches 
of  the  trees,  and  will  average  nine  inches  in  length. 
A  number  of  the  blossoms  given  me  recently,  meas- 
ured twelve  inches.  I  pass  a  Datura  daily  on  ray 
way  to  the  post-ofiice.  From  the  lower  branches, 
which  strike  out  nearly  at  right  angles  from  the 
trunk,  depend  a  myriad  of  white,  waxy-looking 
funnels.  The  fragrance  from  them  never  fails  to 
send  my  imaginaiion  off  on  a  trip  to  the  Orient. 

The  carnations  have  a  remarkably  aromatic  per- 
fume which  I  have  failed  to  notice  in  the  pinks 
of  the  East.  Nine  handsome  varieties  flower  be- 
neath my  windows,  which  are  opened  all  night  to 
let  the  breath  of  the  beauties  come  in.  What  a 
sense  of  luxury  they  impart,  perfuming  one's  very 
sleep ! 

Pampas  plumes,  the  regal  blossoms  of  the  Gy- 
nerium  Argenteuin,  made  their  appearance  in  the 
East  but  a  few  years  ago.  They  were  not  then  the 
article  of  commerce  they  now  are.     Usually  they 


',f*^f 

J 

^•'  ! 

-• 

:-M 

'  '^n'sn 

irWM 

''^^^r^ 

W.  «1 

5»-             •     '1 

Is    ! 
II 

ill. 


yjujui 


224 


CALIFORNIA. 


were  seen  only  in  homes  where  some  member  of  the 
family  had  wandered  away  to  this  coast,  and  coming 
upon  the  elegant  ])lant,  had  sent  home  one  or  two 
of  the  graceful  flowers  to  adorn  the  best  room.  I 
well  remember  the  first  time  I  saw  them.  Three 
of  the  stately  plumes  drooped  from  a  large  vase  in 
a  friends'  parlor.  They  were  broad  and  heavy,  with 
a  rich  cream  color  next  the  long  stem,  and  a  silver 
hue  at  the  edges.  They  had  a  sort  of  royal  look, 
as  has  a  long  ostrich  plume. 

The  silver  gynerium  is  a  native  of  the  pampas 
of  Southern  Jirazil  and  lower  plains  of  South  Amer- 
ica, where  its  appearance  is  very  showy.  As  now 
cultivated  in  Southern  California,  it  rivals  the  plant 
on  its  original  prairies.  Perhaps  I  can  sketch  the 
product  for  the  reader.  Imagine  immense  tufts  of 
long,  narrow,  tough,  finely  saw-edged,  green  leaves, 
all  sharply  reflexed  at  the  middle,  and  rising  from 
the  center  of  the  tufts,  fifty  or  one  hundred  splendid 
plumes  or  blossoms,  averaging  from  two  to  three 
feet  in  length,  and  swaying  from  the  top  of  slender 
stems  twelve  or  fourteen  feet  in  height.  This  paints 
you  pampas  grass  as  it  may  be  seen  here  early  in 
September,  the  time  for  harvesting  the  flowers,  if 
I  mistake  not. 

Heretofore  Santa  Barbara,  ninety  miles  further 
north,  has  had  the  pre-eminence  in  the  cultivation 
of  this  splendid  plant.  The  climate  being  almost 
tropical,  like   that  of  Los   Angeles,  many    foreign 


PAMPAS  GRASS. 


225 


products,  native  to  such  latitudes,  flourish  there 
finely.  This  year,  however,  the'  florists  of  this  city 
have  rivaled  it  in  the  production  of  the  gyneriuni. 


jlir 


»P.' 


Agave  Americanua— "  The  Century  Plant.' 


"^ '' .  blossoms  of  the  Los  Angeles  seedling  variety 
are  the  finest  known  on  the  coast.  They  are  of  a 
rich  cream  tint  at  the  center,  very  feathery  thro  'gh- 
out,  and  measure  from  twenty-four  t;  thirty-six 
inches  in  length.  It  Is  the  unusual  Ijiondth  of  the 
flowers  which  distinguishes  this  variety. 


■-If 


h'' 


1 

Mk^^^^^K   ^ 

^'^W^ 

T^ 

1  J  '.1    61 

JULOI 

B^L_kl!i 

w 


hi 


22G 


CALIFORNIA. 


OTHER  GYNERIUMS. 

It  is  said  that  the  great  conservatories  of  Bel- 
gium grow  not  only  the  gyneriuni  of  this  coast,  but 
also  some  other  varieties,  the  leaves  of  which  are 
very  handsome,  being  striped  with  white  or  yellow. 
It  is  doubtful,  though,  if  these  grasses  belong  to  the 
same  family  as  the  Brazilian  pampas.  Very  proba- 
bly they  belong  to  the  Eulalia  group,  grasses  which; 
in  this  country,  are  very  effiective  in  lawn  ornamen- 
tation. In  one  variety  bars  of  white  cross  the 
leaves,  adding  immensely  to  the  beauty  of  the  plant 

A  fairly  'ornamental  plant,  possessing  marked 
pampas  characteristics,  is  produced  now  by  eastern 
florists.  It  is  a  member  of  the  Erianthus  family, 
and  like  the  true  gynerium,  may  be  propagated  from 
the  seed,  or  by  dividing  the  root.  The  flower  stems 
shoot  up  to  a  height  of  eight  or  ten  feet,  and  the 
blossom  makes  a  great  eftbrt  to  equal  the  plumes 
of  the  latter. 

The  South  American  pampas  craves  water.  The 
result  of  liberal  hydropathic  treatment  in  its  cul- 
ture may  be  seen  at  a  florist's  on  Los  Angeles  Street. 
One  side  the  premises  are  bounded  by  a  zuuga. 
through  which  flows  a  stream  of  muddy  water  from 
the  irrigating  reservoir.  One  bank  of  the  stream 
is  bordered  with  gigantic  clumps  of  this  plant.  A 
forest  of  stems,  topped  out  with  regal  plumes,  rises 
from  the  midst  of  each.  So  interwoven  are  lio 
saw-edged  leaves  that  to  pasa  between  the  tufts  i  an 
imposbibility. 


-wjsw'wwwr^  '?**-' 


XXVII. 
^OOMEN   AS  ^UliltlYAiPOI^S   OP   THE   SOIL. 


ONE  day  in  June  last  the  writer  was  one  of  a 
dozen  passengers  in  the  "morning  stage"  from 
Los  Angeles  to  Pasadena.  The  vehicle  was  not 
one  of  those  oval-shaped,  springy,  swaying  coaches 
which,  as  I  fancied  in  my  chiklhood,  insure  the 
very  perfection  of  carriage  riding,  and  which  the 
traveler  of  the  present  day  may  test,  should  he  ever 
cross  the  rugged  Siskiyou  Mountains  in  one  of  the 
Coaches  of  the  Oregon  and  California  stage-line,  but 
was  a  long,  four-seated  conveyance,  with  higii, 
K»u<  rr  top  and  open  sides.  From  it  we  could  ob- 
tr.in  a  Ihie  view  of  the  picturesque  country  for  miles 
aroui  \.t. 

The  passengers  were  all  in  their  seats  only  one- 
half  hour  after  the  time,  and  presently  the  four-in- 
hand  dashed  off  from  the  cigar-store  in  Temple 
Block,  claiming  to  be  the  head-quarters  of  the  stage 
company.  The  little  seven-by-nine  room  is  by  no 
means  a  pleasant  waiting  point  for  ladies,  and  I 
being  usually  ahead  of  time  when  setting  out  on 
such  a  jaunt,  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  no  end  of 
money  set  fire  to,  in  little  slender  rolls  of  tobacco, 
during  the  hour  I  watched  for  the  stage. 


f 


u 


|f,ns 


ill 
'      'Ml 


"i 


V    i 


HI  nr 


is 


228 


CALIFORNIA. 


The  morning  was  cloudy.  The  atmosphere  was 
laden  with  ciiilling  moisture,  which  the  breeze  drove 
sharply  into  our  faces.  Anywhere  in  the  East, 
under  such  circi  i-tances,  an  all-day  rain  might 
confidently    have    .>'  "'cdictcd ;  but  in  Southern 

California  it  "  never  i\  .5  when  it  does,"  so  we  were 
not  disappointed  to  see  the  mist  drift  away  long 
before  noon.  Then  down  came  the  genial  sunlight, 
making  the  earth  and  ourselves  rejoice. 

Our  road  twice  crossed  the  Arroyo  Sccco,  a 
chatty  stream  flowing  from  the  Sierra  Madre.  All 
around,  the  country  was  covered  with  wrinkles, 
like  an  aged  face  furrowed  by  years  of  care.  Now 
we  aped  across  a  pretty  valley,  decked  with  vener- 
able live-oaks,  ever  green,  and  singularly  effective 
in  the  landscape,  but  some  of  them  painfully  dis- 
torted in  shape.  Now  we  were  borne  up  a  long  hill, 
from  whose  top  we  had  a  view  of  scenes  quite 
worthy  the  brush  which  put  the  Yo-Semite  on 
canvas. 

Upon  the  seat  beside  me  sat  an  intelligent  lady 
from  some  town  in  Iowa.  She  had  been  on  a  visit 
to  Elsinore,  a  new  colony  springing  up,  with  fair 
prospects,  not  far  from  Riverside.  Her  husband,  as 
I  soon  learned,  was  one  of  its  projectors,  and,  as 
was  entirely  proper,  she  appeared  to  be  much  inter- 
ested in  the  sale  of  Elsinore  lots.  She  quietly  advised 
a  young  man,  forming  the  third  party  on  our  seat, 
and  evidently  just  cat(  'ling  the  real-estate  fever,  to 


u  vf^»^J.  W" 


-     ■ 


WOMEN  AS  CULTIVATORS  OF  THE  SOIL.    229 


"see  Elsinore  before  investing  elsewhere  in  South- 
ern California."  That  was  kind  of  her.  The  new 
town  occupies  a  location  as  charming  as  is  its  name, 
on  the  border  of  Elsinore  Lake,  where  it  would  be 
delightful  to  dwell.  The  place  has  advantages  all 
its  own,  and  might  exactly  meet  the  wants  and 
means  of  this  stranger.  If  so,  two  men  had  been 
helped. 

It  is  very  noticeable  iiow  quickly  bright-minded 
women  from  other  parts  of  the  country  become 
interested,  and  then  engaged,  in  real-estate  transac- 
tions on  this  coast.  It  is  worthy  of  renuxrk,  too, 
what  ability  they  display  in  the  business,  and  what 
success  they  achieve.  Some  one  has  said  that  as 
large  a  proportion  of  women  as  men,  increase  their 
fortunes  by  this  sort  of  trade.  They  are  quick  to 
discern  the  favorable  or  unfavorable  points  in  a  piece 
of  property,  and  seem  to  know  when  they  have  re- 
ceived a  good  oifer  from  a  purchaser. 

A  friend  recently  informed  me  that  of  r.  certain 
large  tract  of  land  near  the  city,  which  was  put  on 
the  nuu'ket  lately  in  small  lots,  nearly  one-half  the 
buvers  were  women ;  and  also,  that  it  is  not  a  rare 
tiling  for  numbers  of  feminine  speculators  to  attend 
the  auction  sales  of  land  frequently  taking  place, 
and  to  bid  quietly  but  intelligently  for  the  property. 
Of  the  sixty-five  or  more  women  employed  as 
teachers  in  the  public  schools  of  Los  Angeles,  there 

is  scarcely  one  who  is  not  the  owner  of  land  some- 

20 


i    TTip 


230 


CALIFORNIA. 


r  jji! 


i 


where  in  the  State.  Numbers  of  women  on  the 
coast — in  California,  in  Oregon — personally  super- 
intend considerable  farms,  the  titles  to  which  are  in 
their  own  name.  They  themselves  make  the  sales 
of  the  crops.  In  some  instances  they  have  brought 
their  land  up  to  a  high  figure  by  putting  it  under 
fine  cultivation.  Of  the  five  women  who  happen  to 
be  at  this  moment  in  the  house  where  I  write,  all 
possess  land  in  or  neiir  the  city. 

Much  has  been  said  about  an  educated  and  sen- 
sible young  woman  who,  with  her  invalid  father, 
resides  in  one  of  the  colonies  not  very  distant  from 
Los  Angeles.  She  is  the  owner  of  a  raisin  vine- 
yard of  ten  or  more  ;.cres,  every  vine  in  which  was 
planted  by  her  own  hands.  The  vineyard  is  now 
in  full  bearing.  Every  year  she  superintends  the 
picking,  curing,  and  jiacking  of  her  crop,  and  makes 
her  own  tt'rms  with  the  dealers.  I  think  she  is  the 
possessor  also  of  ten  acres  of  orange  trees,  in  thrifty 
condition.  The  story  goes  that  when  the  little  cot- 
tage in  which  they  live  was  in  process  of  erection, 
the  roof  being  unfinished,  a  severe  storm  threat- 
ened. This  made  it  necessary  for  the  father — his 
own  carpenter,  I  presume — to  have  aid  in  the  shin- 
gling. None  being  obtainable  in  the  small  town, 
the  indomitable  girl  climbed  to  the  roof,  and  laid 
shingles  until  the  work  was  complete,  acquitting 
herself  as  creditably  at  carpentry  as  she  does  at 
raisin-making. 


^^==r— n 


WOMEN  AS  CULTIVATORS  OF  THE  SOIL.    2"n 

I  airi  now  obliged  to  add  that,  no  sooner  had 
this  brave,  energetic  girl  acquired  her  pretty  home, 
and  become  well  advanced  toward  competency,  than 
there  chanced  that  way  a  Methodist  minister,  who, 
admiring  her  noble  qualities,  invited  her  to  become 
his  wife.  And  she,  pleased  with  the  idea,  accepted 
the  invitation,  and  is  about  to  be  married. 

In  the  same  village  live  two  sisters,  young 
women  from  Wisconsin,  who,  with  a  widowed 
mother,  came  to  the  place  but  a  few  years  ago.  With 
their  slender  means  they  purchased  a  few  acres  of 
land  near,  and  soon  had  growing  upon  it  a  raisin 
vineyard  and  an  orange  grove,  much  of  the  labor 
of  planting  them  being  performed  with  their  own 
hands.  While  their  vines  and  trees  were  growing, 
one  of  thtm,  a  girl  rarely  endowed,  applied  for  the 
position  of  postmaster  in  the  community,  and  re- 
ceived the  appointment,  "her  application  being  in- 
dorsed by  nearly  every  voter  in  the  town." 

About  this  time  the  Southern  Pacific  Railway, 
learning  that  she  was  an  accomplished  telegrapher, 
gave  her  important  employment  in  that  occupation, 
her  sister  becoming  her  efficient  deputy  in  the  post- 
office.  These  young  women  are  the  daughters  of  a 
Congregational  clergyman  who  died  some  years  ago, 
and  are,  of  course,  cultured,  Christian  girls.  Their 
womanly  ways,  promptness,  and  conscientious  dis- 
charge of  duty,  as  daughters,  in  the  Church,  in 
Bociety,  in  business,  have  won  them  the  good  will 


•i] 

m 


i  ivB 


;  '4 


'   ill 
1           1  4!li: 

232 


CALIFORNIA. 


ill! 


P    if^^ 


l^    ; 


M 


i 


and  respect  of  all  parties.  As  a  result  of  economy 
and  jiulif'ious  investments  in  real  estate,  their  com- 
bined fortune  now,  at  the  close  of  about  five  years, 
amounts  to  some  sixteen  thousand  dollars. 

We  are  now  well  on  the  way  to  Pasadena.  Sud- 
denly the  four-in-hand  wheel  into  a  flower-bordered 
drive-way  on  our  right.  Then  comes  to  view  a  trim 
little  cottage  crowning  one  of  the  "wrinkles."  Now 
out  of  the  front  door-way  bound  two  or  three  young 
children,  shouting  "Mamma!"  After  them  comes 
a  babe  in  somebody's  arms.  The  place  was  the 
home,  these  were  the  children,  of  the  lady  from 
Elsiiiore.  Ourselves  happy  over  the  welcome  she 
received  we  bade  lier  adieu,  turned  back  to  the 
main  road,  and  began  climbing  Hermosa  Vista  Hill, 
one  of  the  sightliest  eminences  in  all  this  picturesque 
region,  and,  as  has  been  said  in  a  previous  chapter, 
the  seat  of  a  college  for  young  men. 

The  summit  gained,  a  short  time  brought  us 
into  Orange  Grove  Avenue,  the  finest  street  in 
Pasadena.  Throughout  its  entire  length  vineyards, 
orange  groves,  inviting  grounds,  and  comfortable 
abodes  grace  both  sides.  Speeding  on  a  couple  of 
miles,  we  at  last  turned  into  the  broad,  arched  gate- 
wav  at  Carmelita,  the  beautiful  home  of  Dr.  Ezra 
S.  Carr  and  his  family.  Here  the  stage  left  the 
writer  for  a  twenty-four  hours'  sojourn.  As  we 
wound  through  the  drive-way  to  the  house,  we  no- 
ticed among  the  great  variety  of  choice  trees  in  the 


1.  %  1 


WOMEN  AS  cultivators;  of  the  SOTL.    233 

grounds,  cedars  from  Lebanon,  India,  Norway,  Ore- 
gon, and  the  Norfolk  Islands;  also,  the  maple,  but- 
ternut, mulberry,  palm,  bamboo,  several  sp„oies 
of  eucalypti — natives  of  Australia — and  tne  sturdy 
sequoia,  of  Calaveras  stock,  with  other  home  and 
foreign  trees. 


The  ii-rra  MaiK  Villa. 

Carmelita  is  intended  to  suggest  not  only  the 
name  of  its  proprietor,  but  also  Mount  Carmel,  in 
Syria.  Naturally  it  calls  up  the  days  of  Elijah,  and 
ilie  scenes  of  the  august  miracle  which  took  place 
^n  that  summit,  with  its  attendant  human  slaughter. 


^ll 


i 


1:3 


An 


m. 


,.  M  '  1 


r 


234 


CALIFORNIA. 


tH     ' 


The  cottage,  framed  in  with  flowers  and  vines,  occu- 
pies the  crown  of  a  long  descent  toward  tiie  east. 
In  the  foreground,  on  that  side,  stands  an  apricot 
orchard  in  splendid  condition.  Beyond  that,  a  part 
of  the  lovely  village  comes  into  the  picture.  Far- 
ther away,  stretches  the  rich  San  Gabriel  Valley. 
On  the  left,  three  miles  distant,  rise  the  stately 
Sierra  Madre  Mountains.  Thus  are  brought  into 
the  beautiful  panorama  the  extremes  of  scenery. 
Walking  aboni  the  perfect  grounds  at  Carinelita  to- 
day, noting  the  scope  of  the  improvements  on  every 
hand,  it  is  difficult  to  persuade  one's  self  that  seven 
years  have  sufficed  to  produce  fruit  and  forest 
trees  of  such  magnitude;  and  still  more  diffi- 
cult to  believe  the  whole  is  the  result  of  one  little 
woman's  effort. 

Seven  years  ago — this  account  was  penned  in 
1884 — Doctor  Carr  and  his  family  were  living  in 
the  city  of  Sacramento,  himself  being  the  State 
Superintendent  of  Public  Instruction.  With  health 
impaired  by  forty  years  of  arduous  labor  in  educa- 
tional fields,  he  was  admonished  that  a  retreat  where 
rest  could  be  assured,  would  soon  become  a  neces- 
sity. This  led  to  the  purchase  of  the  forty  acres 
now  constituting  Carmelita.  They  were  then  a 
mere  barren  waste.  Not  a  furrow  had  ever  been 
turned  upon  them.  Soon  after  they  were  acquired 
Mrs.  Carr  left  her  home  in  Sacramento,  came  to 
Pasadena,  set  men  to  breaking  up  the  soil  on  this 


'V'-to'itii... 


.  ijui  w.tmi 


I  ■■J<iLa|i,^pHr^nffTr 


PASADENA. 


235 


place,  built  a  temporary  habitation  for  her  family, 
laid  out  these  now  beautiful  grounds,  and  from  that 
time,  with  great  energy,  carried  forward  her  im- 
provements. At  that  time  Mrs.  Carr  was  the  As- 
sistant State  Superintendent  of  the  Public  Schools 
of  California.  For  years  she  had  been  associated 
with  her  husband  in  educational  work. 

On  many  occasions  during  this  period  had 
women  of  culture  and  ability  sought  her  advice, 
with  reference  to  earning  a  livelihood  for  them- 
selves. In  reply  she  had  often  urged  the  obtaining 
a  support  from  the  soil,  in  some  one  of  the  many 
pleasant  departments  of  horticulture  possible  in 
California.  Most,  if  not  all  of  them,  had  lacked 
the  courage  to  make  the  attempt.  In  the  develop- 
ment of  her  forty  acres,  therefore,  she  determined 
to  furnish  them  a  practical  illustration  of  the  views 
she  had  advocated.  And,  to-day,  Carmelita,  with 
its  many  different  lines  of  production,  is  her  noble, 
self-denying  answer  to  a  multitude  of  women 
desirous  of  learning  how  they  may  support  them- 
selves, and  provide  something  for  the  future. 

Mrs.  Carr  has  endeavored  to  exemplify  what  a 
woman  may  accomplish  on  a  few  acres  of  land  in 
one,  two,  three,  and  four  years,  with  much  or  with 
little  capital.  The  particulars  of  her  effort  are  as 
interesting  as  useful,  but  must  be  excluded  from 
this  volume.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  Carmelita  is,  in 
many  of  its  departments,  a  splendid  object-lesson  for 


m 


if- 


(  ! 


:  !ii: 


=;! 


236 


CALIFORNFA. 


'm 


women  having  families  of  children  to  support.  It 
is  a  favorite  project  in  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Carr  to 
some  day  convert  Carmelita  into  a  State  school  of 
horticulture  for  woirion.     May  she  live  to  do  it! 

Of  Pasadena  itself  all  the  world  has  iieard ;  how 
attractive  it  is;  how  dclightfidly  situated,  at  the 
head  of  the  fair  San  Gabriel  Valley;  and  how,  in 
the  space  of  a  few  swift  years,  it  sprang  from  a 
desert  state  into  square  miles  of  vineyards  and 
orchards  of  all  kinds.  It  is  the  gem  of  Southern 
California  towns,  and  will  long  remain  such.  Tour- 
ists can  find  no  lovelier  place  to  winter  in.  But 
the  man  of  limited  means,  seeking  a  home  there 
for  his  family,  would  be  shut  out  by  the  high  price 
of  lanil. 

A  little  farther  away  down  the  valley  stands  :he 
notable  Sierra  INIadre  Villa,  a  view  of  which  adorns 
a  preceding  page.  The  praise  of  its  situation,  and 
of  its  delights  as  a  resort,  have  been  heralded  all 
over  the  Union.  Very  seldom  does  a  tourist  to 
Los  Angeles  omit  this  villa,  or  Pasadena,  from  his 
trip.  Immediately  back  of  the  r,,'pniises  rise  the 
frowning  summits  of  the  Sierra  Madre  Mountains. 
Gracing  the  long  broad  slope  in  front  of  the  build- 
ing are  shining  orange-groves  and  thrifty  vineyards. 
From  its  tower  are  to  be  seen  leagues  of  the 
charming  vale  of  San  Gabriel,  a  spot  more  or  less 
highly  cultivated  for  a  century  past. 


■  ^'•''f&^-Wiiii 


XXVIII. 
San  ^bdi^o. 


SAN  PEDRO  is  a  name  one  liears  daily  in  Snnth- 
ern  California.  Every  travoliM*,  honnd  up  or 
down  the  coast  by  sea,  and  desiring  to  rearh  Los 
Angeles,  must  enter  the  place  via  San  Pedio.  Or, 
being  already  in  the  thriving  metropolis,  and  wish- 
ing to  jonrney  by  wafer  to  any  point  along  the 
shore,  it  is  San  Pedro  which  opens  the  door  and 
lets  him  out.  To  a  great  extent  Australian  coal- 
fields furnish  the  citizens  of  Los  Angeles  their  fuel. 
But  it  can  glow  on  their  hearths  only  after  a  hand- 
some fee  for  lighterage  has  been  paid  this  town. 

San  Pedro  is  the  sea-port  of  Los  Angeles 
County,  and  is  therefore  a  place  of  some  impor- 
tance, though  but  a  mere  hamlet  in  size.  I  had 
spent  thirteen  months  in  this  part  of  the  State,  and 
had  not  seen  the  locality.  So  one  morning  last 
week,  a  very  dear  friend  accompanying  nu>,  I  deter- 
mined to  make  the  southward  run  to  the  sea. 
Accordingly,  at  half-past  nine  o'clock  we  were  at  the 
Commercial  Street  depot,  in  TjOs  Angeles,  waiting 
for  the  train.  Every  morning  about  that  hour 
four  trains  halt  there,  bound  to  as  many  diflfercnt 
parts  of  the  country.     The  small  waiting-room  was 


21 


237 


fi 


jji 


M/J 


tj 


*"! 


ri 


f 


i; 

i    AH 

'4 

1 
I 
1 
V 

It 

t 

4 .                        .': 
f 

U    . 

iu 

238 


CALIFORNIA. 


r  [1^ 


crowded  with  travelers,  collected  froru  every  quarter 
of  the  city.  Outside,  under  the  extended  roof  of 
the  building,  were  congregated  nearly  as  many  more, 
Americans,  Mexicans,  Germans,  Italians,  Chinese, 
and  negroes,  tl:e  same  incongruous  assembly  one  sees 
on  all  such  occasions  in  any  of  these  coast  towns. 

It  was  interesting  to  watch  them.  They  were 
doing  almost  as  many  different  things  as  there  were 
persons — reading,  talking,  calculating  with  a  pencil, 
entering  iacmoranda  in  note-books,  buying  tickets, 
changing  money,  moving  baggage,  studying  the 
costumes  of  the  women.  One  man,  with  fiery  red 
hair,  a  hard,  freckled  face,  and  an  expression  of  the 
eye  which  made  one  feel  sick  and  turn  away,  seated 
himself  directly  opposite  us,  and  immediately 
opened  a  small  bag  filled  with  Muscat  grapes,  which 
he  began  to  devour  greedily.  Seeds,  pulp,  and 
tough  skin  were  relished  alike.  No  wonder  the 
man's  face  wore  both  a  pale  and  painful  look.  That 
was  one  of  nature's  punishments  for  his  lack  of 
obedience  to  her  laws.     He  deserved  it. 

Just  as  our  train  appeared  in  sight,  far  down 
Alameda  Street,  a  fruit-vender  drove  up  in  front  of 
the  station,  with  a  load  of  pomegranates,  the  first  I 
liad  seen  in  California.  The  fruit  was  about  the 
shape  and  size  of  the  common  quince,  of  a  golden, 
yellow  (iolor  on  one  side,  and  rose-tinted  on  the 
other.  Inside  the  pomegranate  is  filled  with  bright, 
red    seeds,   nearly   flat,  and   as   large   as  those   of 


I  VI J  I  -■—r^.j.-^ 


SAN  PEDRO. 


239 


a  small  watermelon.  Filled  in  between  them  is 
the  pleasant,  sweetish,  cooling  pulp,  so  grateful  to 
the  taste  in  warm  Asiatic  climates.  The  pomegran- 
ate is  cultivated  with  success  in  this  section  of  the 


The  Pomegranate, 


State,  and  in  increasing  quantities.  To  what  use 
it  is  put,  except  the  making  of  refreshing  drinks, 
and  eating  out  of  hand,  I  have  not  learned.  I 
admired  the  sample  handed  me  by  my  frieud,  for 
its  beauty,  and  regarded  it  with  interest,  on  ac- 
count of  its  Bible  associations;  but  upon  trying  to 
eat   it,  concluded  that  an  orange,  an  apricot,  or  a 


Tltlf 

m 


Im 


r  ftHni  1 

:  C 

Iwi 

:| 

1  w 

:  r| 

I   pp 

.  '   f 

r      /  »  '. 

i  H 

I  5: 


i  li 


i  if- 


lit  ' 


Iff  jj.j  J 
I  * 


I 


1, 


;u  i.'  = 


i- 

1  )■ 

'■  F 

' 

4~ 

U- 

'■ 

1 ' 

f--~ 

i.  ■ 

i  J 

n 

1  . 

^? 

!i!' 

M  . 

;i' 

P 

( , 

't 

'  ■ 

240 


CALIFORNIA. 


banana  were  ever  so  much  more   agreeable  to  my 
taste. 

"Let  lis  take  seats  in  the  last  car,"  said  Mr 
H — ,  as  we  stepped  aboard  the  train,  "for  from  the 
rear  door  we  can  obtain  a  view  of  the  whole  coun- 
try, and  that  is  what  you  want." 

To  that  part  of  the  train,  therefore,  we  betook 
ourselvep,  and  soon  were  speeding  through  the 
suburbs  of  the  city,  with  acres  of  vineyards,  orange 
groves,  walnut  and  apricot  orchards,  bounding  the 
track  on  either  side.  The  charm  of  these  fruit 
fields  continued  for  five  or  six  miles  out.  Thou 
the  scene  changed,  and  we  flitted  past  a  succession 
of  extensive  ranchos.  Around  the  residences  upon 
them  rose  small  forests  of  eucalypti,  planted  as 
much  for  eifect  in  the  landscape  as  for  protection 
a^unst  the  sun  and  wind.  The  eucalyptus  is  the 
tree  of  Southern  California  for  elegance  and  style, 
unless  the  dracoena  or  fan-palm  are  its  rivals  in 
these  respects.  As  unlike  as  possible  in  height, 
form,  and  foliage,  they  all  are  extremely,  though 
differently,  effective  in  expansive  grounds.  Eaci\ 
studied  as  it  deserves,  awakens  lofty  thoughts.  The 
springs  of  poetry  are  in  all  of  them.  Though  seen 
every  day,  they  are  the  same  impressive  objects. 
One  never  tires  of  them.  In  that  happy  day  when 
"all  the  trees  of  the  field  shall  clap  their  hands," 
may  the  eucalyptus,  dracoena,  and  fan-palm  help 
make  the  music! 


SAN  PEDRO. 


241 


!! 


Again  the  panorama  changes,  and  we  have  a 
vision  of  broad,  bare,  brown  liUls,  slopes,  and  levels, 
off  westward;  but  toward  the  south  a  picture  of 
smooth  water,  blue  as  the  cloudless  sky  over  our 
heads.  It  is  San  Pedro  Bay.  Now  we  rumble 
into  Wilmington,  situated  at  the  head  of  tide-water 
on  Wilmington  Bay,  or  "the  inner  harbor,"  as  it 
is  often  called,  and  five  miles  from  the  anchorage 
of  the  great  ocean  ships  and  steamers.  It  is  ap- 
proaching eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the 
tide  is  now  in,  making  the  little  place  look  attract- 
ive with  its  foreground  of  shimmering  sea.  But 
wait  until  we  return  this  afternoon,  then  we  shall 
find  it  high  and  dry  on  the  edge  of  a  long  stretch 
of  wet  marsh  and  mud.  In  1882  an  act  of  Congress 
established  the  "customs  district  of  Wilmington," 
making  the  place  the  port  of  entry  for  Southern 
California,  and  Hueneme,  Santa  Barbara,  and  San 
Buena  Ventura  its  ports  of  delivery.  The  young 
town  has  a  fair  prospect  of  growth. 

But  it  is  the  grand  old  ocean  itself  we  desire  to 
see,  and  so  we  continue  our  ride  three  miles  and  a 
half  over  a  row  of  piles  standing  deep  in  water  to 
San  Pedro,  close  to  the  sea,  but  sheltered  from  the 
furious  north-west  winds  by  a  high  bluff  on  the 
right,  and  commanding  a  magnificent  view  of  the 
outer  bay,  the  roadstead,  and  that  "classic  mound" 
at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor,  called  Dead  Man's 
Island. 


mW 


i  • 


h' 


242 


CALIFORNIA. 


m  ' 

I  h, 

in    r 


filF 


V     ! 


K    ■'•'' 


'f 

if 


The  bay  of  San  Pedro  sets  up  into  the  mainhind 
from  the  Pacific  in  a  north-easterly  direction,  and 
from  east  to  west  is  three  and  one-half  miles  wide. 
Back  from  its  shores  some  distance  lie  the  flourish- 
ing towns  of  Orange,  Tustin,  Santa  Ana,  and 
Westminster.  While  hugging  the  water's  edge, 
almost  due  east  of  San  Pedro,  can  be  discerned 
"Long  Beach,"  a  new  Summer  resort  in  high  favor 
among  lovers  of  sea-side  pleasures  throughout  all  this 
region.  And  away  to  the  southward  thirty-five 
miles,  out  of  sight,  stand  the  interesting  ruins  of  the 
old  mission  of  San  Juan  Capistrano. 

Our  train  drawing  up  alongside  the  dock  of  the 
Pacific  Coast  Steamship  Company,  we  tarried  a  few 
moments  to  see  our  fellow  passengers,  most  of  whom 
were  bound  up  the  coast,  embark  on  board  the 
transport  which  was  to  convey  them  off  to  the  great 
steamer  Santa  Rosa,  anchored  in  the  roadstead,  and 
pouring  from  her  tall,  black  pipes  columns  of  dense 
smoke  into  the  pure  salt-scented  air.  Then  turn- 
ing away  we  walked  up  the  beach  a  half-mile  or 
less,  to  Timms'  Point,  where  stand  the  pleasant 
home  of  Captain  Timms,  once  the  owner  of  six 
thousand  acres  adjoining  the  point,  a  cottage  occu- 
pied by  a  Presbyterian  minister  and  his  family,  from 
Pasadena,  and  those  of  one  or  two.  other  parties 
who  had  come  to  the  spot  for  a  new  lease  of  life. 
Seated  on  the  porch  of  the  captain's  cottage,  and 
looking  southward  we  had  an  extended  view  of  the 


V  I 

1 1 


■^ 


SAN  PEDRO. 


243 


sea  and  outer  bay.  In  the  harbor,  besiilcs  tlie  Santa 
Rosa,  Itiy  a  nuinbor  of  large  raercliant  ships — five 
of  them  English — which  had  come  in  freiglited  with 
coal  from  Australia,  and  having  discharged  their 
cargoes,  were  loading  with  wheat  grown  in  the  Ca- 
hucnga,  Los  Angeles,  and  San  Gabriel  Valleys. 
Both  these  commodities  were  conveyed,  the  one 
from,  the  other  to,  the  ships  by  transports  at  great 
expense.  Upon  every  ton  of  coal  from  Australia, 
unladed  at  the  port,  the  government  receives  a  duty 
of  seventy-five  cents. 

From  Dead  Man's  Island,  at  the  very  mouth  of 
the  harbor  and  just  in  front  of  the  cottage,  there 
sti'^tches  to  Rattlesnake  Island,  a  low,  sandy  reach 
of  land  in  the  northern  part  of  the  outer  bay,  a 
costly  breakwater,  one  mile  and  a  quarter  in  length, 
on  which  the  government  has  expended  three-fourths 
of  a  million  of  dollars,  in  order  to  provide  a  chan- 
nel of  sufficient  depth  to  float  up  to  the  docks  at 
San  Pedro  the  largest  ocean  vessels.  As  yet  the 
M'ork  proves  but  a  partial  success,  and  there  are 
persons  who  openly  assert  that  the  object  can  never 
be  attained  with  the  breakwater  in  its  present  posi- 
tion. Some  distance  from  Timms'  Point,  on  the 
west,  a  head  of  land  makes  out  into  the  ocean,  from 
which,  it  is  said,  if  the  defense  had  been  constructed 
to  Dead  Man's  Island,  a  harbor  would  have  been 
secured  capacious  and  deep  enough  to  have  admitted 
all  the  shipping  likely  to  visit  the  port  at  any  one 


W-v 


244 


CALIFORNIA. 


t 
'  1 1 

«:m 

!  , 

k 

1 

,:i 

!;■ 

■1' 

'I 

1* 

( 

! 

Ill: 


u 


time.  As  it  is,  the  north-west  wind,  which  almost 
talks  around  these  points,  drives  the  sand  into  the 
channel,  necessitating  constant  dredging  to  preserve 
a  passage  that  will  admit  lumber  vessels  and  steamers 
of  ordinary  size.  The  last  Congress  appropriated 
^75,000  to  continue  the  improvement  of  the  harbor. 
Captain  Timms  proved  to  bf  an  old  sailor,  who 
possessed  a  bountiful  experience  of  ocean  life  and 
hardships,  besides  a  fund  of  knowledge  of  foreign 
countries.  By  birth  he  is  a  Prussian.  In  1844 
he  entered  the  American  merchant-marine  service, 
while  a  mere  youth,  remaining  four  years.  Then 
he  accompanied  the  benevolent-hearted  master  of 
some  ship,  to  his  home  in  Portland,  Maine,  and 
under  his  direction  studied  navigation,  together  with 
the  rudimentary  branches  of  an  English  education. 
In  1849,  leaving  New  York  as  the  mate  of  a  vessel, 
he  came  to  tlie  Pacific  Coast,  made  an  attempt  at 
mining,  met  with  no  success,  and  disliking  the 
business,  went  to  San  Francisco,  and  engaged 
with  certain  shipping  firms  of  that  city  to  act  as 
their  agent  in  San  Pedro.  Hither  he  came  in  1852, 
bidding  sailor  life  a  lasting  farewell,  and  estab- 
lishing himself  as  a  commission  merchant,  or  general 
business  man  of  the  region.  Here,  in  sight  of  the 
sea,  with  the  woman  who  came,  a  young  girl,  from 
the  far-off  home  land,  to  marry  him,  he  has  lived 
thirty-four  years.  The  captain's  house  is  built 
partly  upon  a  government  transport,  which,  during 


SAN  pi: DUO. 


245 


the  war  with  Mexico  in  1846,  steamed  into  this  bay 
freighted  with  troops  bound  for  Los  Angeles  to  re- 
enforce  General  Kearney,  then  in  command  there. 
After  the  soldiers  disembarked  the  vessel  parted 
her  chains  in  a  storm  and  went  ashore  under  the 
bluff  on  our  right.  Sometime  subsequently  she  was 
floated  into  the  harbor  for  repairs,  but  was  con- 
demned instead.  About  this  date  Captain  Timma 
was  meeting  with  some  opposition  fiom  the  Mexi- 
cans of  the  vicinity,  who  did  not  relish  his  move- 
ments for  j)ermanent  settlement  among  them.  So, 
wishing  to  avoid  a  collision,  he  erected  his  dwell- 
ing over  the  abandoned  transport,  holding  that  it 
was  American  territory. 

The  argument  was  a  success,  and  they  ceased  to 
molest  him.  All  these  years  the  wind  and  the 
waves  have  been  making  land  in  front  of  his  home, 
and  to-day  the  old  tr&nsport  lies  firmly  imbedded 
in  sand  and  pebbles  several  rods  back  from  its 
native  element. 

"For  twenty-five  years  after  we  came  here," 
said  the  urbane  captain,  "  we  brought  all  the  water 
we  used  for  cooking  and  drinking  a  distance  of 
three  miles.  Now  we  get  it  from  the  railway  res- 
ervoir, a  half-mile  away," 

Dead  Man's  Island,  just  before  us,  and  contain- 
ing less  than  an  acre  of  ground,  received  its  name, 
it  is  said,  from  the  circumstance  that  when  on  the 
march  iDwards  Los  Angeles,  the  troops  above  men- 


.;  t 


i  r"'i 


i 


Ill 


mum 


240 


m 


t  1 

'{  1 


Jh 


' 


it  i 


i!f 


Si   1    ' 


H 


t 


|!: 


J* 

I 


!'. 


i  ' 


ir 


Jr  i  ,1 


CALIFORNIA. 


tioned  had  an  engagement  with  the  Mexican  force 
and  suifcred  a  loss  of  fifteen  men.  The  bodies  of 
the  shiin  were  ''ctiirned  to  San  Pedro  and  interred 
near  this  point.  At  this  the  natives  wqre  much 
incensed,  and  declared  that  if  the  bodies  were  not 
removed  they  should  be  thrown  over  the  high  bluff 
into  the  sea.  Thereupon  the  dead  were  exhumed 
and  re-buried  on  this  little  hillock  rising  out  of  the 
water. 

It  was  in  the  bay  of  San  Pedro,  and  on  board 
the  little  brig  Pilgrim,  from  Boston,  while  she  lay 
anchored  off  shore,  near  where,  to-day,  float  these 
seven  large  merchantmen,  that  took  place  that 
cruel  and  disgraceful  flogging  scene  which  Mr.  Rich- 
ard Henry  Dana  so  thriilingly  describes  in  his 
"Two  Years  Before  the  Mast."  Here  the  com- 
mander of  the  brig,  Captain  'ihompson,  with  barely 
the  shadow  of  a  reason  for  h'is  cruel  deed,  and  with 
his  own  hands,  pimished  two  of  his  crew  until  their 
bodies  were  lacerated  and  dripj)ing  with  blood ; 
and, as  if  that  were  torture  insufficient,  he  imme- 
diately upon  releasing  them,  ordered  his  boat  low- 
ered and  commanded  the  wounded  men  to  bear  a 
hand  in  rowing  him  to  shore,  three  miles  and  a  half 
distant!  That  barbarity  occurred  fifty-one  years 
ago,  but  the  memory  of  it  lingers  about  this  harbor 
still,  and  will  be  vividly  called  up  by  every  reader 
of  Mr.  Dana's  most  interesting  book  who  chances 
to  visit  San  Pedro. 


-S'yliV  PEDRO. 


247 


i;** 


li  f 


San  Pedro  lies  twenty-one  miles  south  of  Los 
Angeles,  occupies  a  sightly  situation,  is  a  pleasant 
sea-side  resort,  has  a  few  hundred  inhabitants,  three 
churches,  two  public  school-houses,  and  is  the  south- 
ern terminus  of  the  Southern  Pacific  Railway. 


:  < 


XXTX. 


In  the  Santiago  (i)ANOH. 


'■i- 


SOME  one  has  said  that  "  prisons  are  not  the 
abodes  of  vvirked  men  only."  Equally  true  is 
it  that  njonntain  fastnesses  are  not  the  retreats  of 
criminals  solely.  Men  and  women  have  languished 
long  in  cells  and  dungeons  for  no  other  reason 
than  because  they  opposed  wrong  and  approved  of 
right.  So  have  men  and  x»cmen  spent  their  lives 
in  secluded  gorges,  on  lonely  mountain  sides,  not 
because  they  had  infringed  the  laws,  or  were  hiding 
from  justice,  but  for  reasons  as  right  as  are  the 
motives  which  lead  other  people  to  settle  on  plains 
or  in  valleys.  There  are  persons  who  crave  a  life 
among  Nature's  wild  scenes.  The  nearer  her  rough, 
honest  heart  they  can  get  the  happier  they  are. 
Never  is  her  visage  harsh  or  repellent  to  them. 
Marred  or  fair,  in  repose  or  swept  by  storms,  it  is 
beautiful. 

Nor  does  it  follow  that  these  lovers  of  Nature 
are  indifferent  to  the  affairs  of  the  great  family  of 
man  to  which  they  belong.  They  are  lovers  of 
their  race  as  well.  MoHnos  once  said:  "Whoever 
wounds  the  Cijurch  of  God  wounds  me."  So  what- 
ever concerns  the  human  race,  concerns  these  great- 
248 


TN  THE  SANTIAGO  CANON. 


249 


hearted  dwellers  among  the  everlasting  hills,  and 
some  of  them  manage  to  send  down,  or  carr)  down, 
from  their  lofty  nooks  a  vast  deal  of  help  for  the 
needy  world.  Though  themselves  cabined  in  pure  air, 


A  California  Live-cak. 

they  do  not  forget  the  multitudes  tented  amid  the 
earth's  moral  miasms  below.  Never  are  th.ey  (he 
people  to  say:  "What  matters  it  to  us  whether  men 
are  blessed  or  wretched?" 

It  is  in  such  a  mountain  home,  among  such 
helpful  people,  that  I  pen  these  lines  this  morning. 
Or  rather  it  is  in  tlie  door-yard,  seated  in  the  shade 
of  a  spreading  live-oak  tree,  through  whose  branches 
falls  th'j  yellow  sunlight,  in  flickering  patches,  on 
the  smooth,  hard  ground.     Close  by  stands  the  tiny 


H 


i    il 


lil-fl;! 


250 


CALIFORNIA. 


I  ■  ■  t 


hi'' 

1!^ 


i'l: 


i-L.. 


cottage,  with  its  green  blinds,  its  numerous  porches 
and  outer  doors.  Near  the  dwelling,  supported  by 
nine  slender  posts,  is  a  square  roofing  of  live-oak 
branches  laid  thickly  together.    The  posts  are  twined 


^-fifri 


A  Bee  Farm. 
with  water  ivy  and  other  climbing  vines.  The 
space  sheltered  by  this  canopy  is  the  dining-room. 
In  the  center  stands  a  large  table,  at  which  we  have 
just  taken  a  delicious  breakfast  of  coffee,  hot  rolls, 
fresh  cheese,  and  thick  white  honey  from  the  apiary, 


JiPI  llWUBiailM 


IN  THE  SANTIAGO  CA^ON. 


251 


I  t 


in  sight  across  the  crook  which  flows  down  the  ranon. 
For  this  (liniiig-rooin  Nature  wove  the  carpet. 
Disdaining  cotton  or  wool,  she  made  it  of  the  earth, 
and  took  pleasure  in  the  thought  that  the  feet  of 
men  and  women  can  never  wear  the  staunch  fahric 
tliread-bare.  Feet  may  come  and  feet  may  go,  but 
that  carpet  will  wear  forever. 

Adjoijiing  the  dining-room  is  the  kitchen,  with- 
out vestige  of  walls.  In  other  words,  the  cooking- 
stove  is  overarched  by  a  glossy  live-oak,  the 
heavens  overarcliing  that.  The  short  pipe  is  kejit 
in  place  by  an  ingenious  contrivance,  as  follows: 
Two  slender  poles  have  an  end  of  each  nailed  to 
separate  trees  near,  in  such  manner  as  to  cross  and 
fasten  nicely  just  in  front  of  the  pipe,  while  a  cross- 
piece  holds  them  in  place  back  of  the  I  ^pe.  There 
is  a  twofold  advantage  in  this  arrangement.  First,  it 
is  economical;  second,  when  the  stove  goes  into  the 
house,  as  it  will  at  the  approach  of  cold  weather, 
it  will  be  but  the  work  of  a  moment  to  send 
the  poles  flying;  then  the  remainder  ot  w"  work 
is  eiisy. 

Nor  must  it  be  inferred  that  kitchen  pantries 
have  been  omitted  in  this  plan  for  open-air  house- 
keeping. Three  or  four  cases  of  she'ves  conven- 
iently placed,  some  with  doorS;  some  .vithout,  one 
secured  to  a  strong  tree,  another  set  upon  a  couple  of 
boxes,  supply  every  want  of  that  character. 

The  cottage  stands  on  a  mere  green  shelf  in  the 


!  I 


H;,:siiS 


u 


31-!. 


( 

I J ' 

;'*.■■' 
ii;'- 


252 


CALIFORNIA. 


canon,  sixteen  miles  from  its  mouth.  Westward 
from  it  stretches  a  narrow  plateau  adorned  with 
grand  live-oaks,  a  number  of  them  growing  in  fam- 
ilies from  one  root.  Fifteen  or  twenty  feet  back  of 
the  dwelling  rises  a  steep,  semi-circ;ilar  wall  of 
mountain,  and  immediately  back  of  that  a  lofty 
cone  towering  to  a  height  of  5,500  feet  above  the 
sea.  Across  the  caricn,  here  about  six  hundred  feet 
wide,  a  second  summit  sends  its  crest  toward  the 
sky.  Beyond  and  norfh  of  that  stretches  up  cone 
after  cone  in  noble  array,  while  farther  up  the 
gorge,  which  narrows  every  rod  of  the  distance, 
height  crowns  height  in  sublime  succession.  All 
Ri'ound  is  majesty  and  grandeur.  This  is  no  place 
for  the  wicked.  A  fugitive  from  the  law  would  be 
miserable  here.  Only  the  good  and  the  true  can 
be  in  harmony  with  these  n)assive  works  of  the 
Almighty.  Round  and  about  these  immutable  peaks 
winds  Santiago  Creek,  washing  this  plateau  within 
a  few  rods  of  my  feet,  and  sending  over  to  me,  from 
among  its  rocks  and  stones,  a  gleeful  "Good  morn- 
ing." At  this  season  of  the  year — October — it  is  a 
harmless  stream ;  but  let  a  characteristic  Southern 
California  rain  descend  for  a  week,  and  it  would 
ft)am,  and  tjiml)l(>,  and  revel  in  the  midst  of  ruin. 

The  proprietors  of  this  delightful  home,  and  of 
many  acres  of  this  splendid  s»'eiiery,  are  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  J.  E.  Pleasants,  both  of  genuine  pioneer  stock 
and  well  known  among  the  old  families  of  the  coast. 


IN-  THE  SANTIAGO  CANON. 


253 


f 


i 


In  fulfillment  of  a  promise  to  visit  them,  made  some 
week=  „go,  I  am  now  here,  and  am  enjoying  more 
than  words  can  expro^^s  the  bracing  mountain  air, 
the  songs  of  the  birds,  and  the  absence  of  all  city 
sounds  and  voltes.  No  wonder  the  Son  of  man 
craved  the  quietude  of  the  mountains,  and  the  rest 
of  "sweet  Galilee,  where  he  so  much  loved  to  be." 
Rest,  strength,  and  inspiration  are  in  these  heights, 
in  this  stream. 

Sometime  in  1833  there  arrived  on  this  part  of 
the  coast  a  young  man  by  the  name  of  Carpenter, 
from  Kentucky.  He  engaged  in  business  in  Los 
Angeles,  acquired  quite  a  fortune,  and  became  the 
possessor  of  an  extensive  tract  of  land  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  Los  Nietos,  which  was  for  many  years  known 
as  "Carpenter's  Rancho."  In  the  course  of  time 
he  married  a  young  lady  by  the  name  of  Domin- 
guez,  a  Spanish  family  then  notable  in  Los  Angeles 
and  Santa  Barbara  counties.  This  couple  were  the 
parents  of  Mrs.  Pleasants.  Her  early  home  was 
the  Los  Nietos  rancho.  Much  pains  was  taken 
with  the  young  lady's  education,  and  she  reached 
womanhood  possessed  of  intelligence,  broad  views, 
and  a  kindly  heart.  She,  of  course,  speaks  the  lan- 
guage of  both  her  father  and  mother. 

The  parents  of  Mr.  Pleasants,  both  Americans, 

emigrated  to  the  northern  portion  of  the  State  from 

the  East  before  there  existed  the  faintest  token  of 

California's  present  enterprise  and  greatness,  and  at 

22 


254 


CALIFORNIA. 


M  ' 


':  Ir 


PIIk 


a  period  when  it  required  great  heroism  to  make  a 
stand  for  a  home  and  subsistence  in  that  part  of  tlie 
coast.  Hostile  Indians  and  savage  beasts  hirked 
on  eve^y  hand.  At  the  age  of  twelve  young  Pleas- 
ants waf'  sent  down  to  Los  Angeles  to  attend  school 
in  the  family  of  William  W'olft^kill,  a  personal 
friend  of  his  father,  and  at  that  time  the  owner  of 
leagues  of  this  Santiago  Mountain  chain,  and  of  the 
fair  and  fertile  "V^alley  of  Santa  Ana  spreading  out 
from  their  base.  Mrs.  Wolfskill  was  hersolf  a  Do- 
mi  nguez.  Maria  Refugio  Carpenter  was  her  rela- 
tive, and  a  pupil  in  the  Wolfskill  school.  Years 
went  by.  Young  Pleasants  became  attached  to 
Southern  California  and  to  Maria  Carpenter,  and 
concluded  to  remain  indefinitely.  To  assist  him  in 
carrying  out  this  resolution,  Mr.  Wolfskill  proposed 
his  coming  down  into  this  section  of  the  country  to 
look  after  the  flocks  and  herds  roaming  over  the 
vast  Wolfskill  estate. 

The  proposal  was  accepted,  and  soon  the  young 
man  found  himself  leading  an  easy,  fascinating  kind  of 
life;  one  strongly  spiced  with  danger,  indeed,  but  not 
more  objectionable  on  that  account.  Mounted  upon 
a  fleet,  intelligent  horse,  he  rode  up  and  down  these 
wild  canons,  to  and  fro  over  the  lonely  mountains, 
back  and  forth  on  the  grassy  plains,  day  after  day. 
Thus  sped  several  years,  dreater  grew  the  charm 
of  the  mountains,  more  repulsive  the  thought 
of   spending    life  in    some    pent-up  town  or  city. 


.Hi 


t  Ti- 
ll 


IN  THE  SANTIAGO  CA^ON. 


255 


(  • 


Finally  Maria  Carpenter  concluded  that  it  would  be 
pleasant  to  change  her  name.  So,  seven  years  ago, 
the  two,  nuule  one,  pitched  their  tent  on  this  little 
green  shelf  in  the  Santiago  canon ;  gave  it  the  name 
of  Pleasant  Refuge;  made  it  bright  with  books, 
pictures,  and  flowers,  and  made  their  lives  useful, 
as  well  by  dispensing  here  a  delightful  hospitality, 
as  by  heartily  forwarding  the  interests  of  society  in 
county  and  State. 

The  cottage  is  located  about  three  miles  from 
the  head  of  the  canon.  From  Santa  Ana,  the  near- 
est town,  it  is  distant  twenty-three  miles,  and  from 
Los  Angeles  sixty.  It  is  neither  a  hotel  nor  a  board- 
ing-house, but  the  quiet  home  of  a  private  family. 
And  yet  to  the  sunny  nook  come  old  and  young, 
sick  and  well,  tired  and  hungry,  strangers  and  ac- 
quaintances, the  simple  and  t'^e  gifted,  all  feeling 
assured  of  a  hearty  welcome.  When  urged,  as  he 
sometimes  is,  to  convert  his  residence  into  a  resort 
for  the  public,  and  take  compensation  for  meals, 
lodging,  and  provender  for  the  teams  of  guests,  Mr. 
Pleasants  always  replies: 

"  I  can  't  do  that.  I  like  to  make  people  happy. 
Every  body  is  welcome." 

And  Mrs.  Pleasants,  always  in  perfect  accord 
with  her  hu8l>and  on  this  ]K>int,  says:  "Our  house 
is  capable  of  enlarging  itself  to  air-  ost  any  size; 
and  then  it  is  quite  worth  while  to  live  to  help 
people  on  their  way,"  or  something  to  that  effect. 


Ill 

II 


fi 


256 


CALIFORNIA. 


\] 


i  I 


1!: 


'i' 


But  not  always  do  guests  come  uninvited.  Some 
arc  welcomed  out  of  a  great  love  for  them  in  the 
hearts  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pleasants.  This  is  true, 
for  instance,  whenever  Madame  Modjeska,  Count 
Bozenta,  her  husband,  and  their  son  Rudolph,  come 
into  this  gorge  for  a  month's  recreation,  as  they  do 
whenever  their  engagements  call  them  to  this  part 
of  the  world.  It  may  not  be  well  known  that 
Madame  Modjeska  and  her  husband,  desiring  that 
their  son  should  be  icared  under  American  institu- 
tions, and  become  a  citizen  of  the  United  States, 
left  Europe  permanently  as  they  supposed,  came  to 
Southern  California,  purchased  property  at  or  near 
Anaheim,  and  settled  down  to  pass  the  remainder 
of  their  days  in  quiet.  Three  years  went  by.  The 
competency  they  possessed  at  their  coming  had 
taken  wings  and  disappeared.  This  misfortune 
induced  the  gifted  woman  to  seek  the  stage  again. 
It  is  comforting  to  know,  when  you  are  a  wanderer 
in  distant  lands,  that  only  just  words  will  be  spoken 
of  you  by  the  friends  from  whom  duty  forced  you 
to  turn  away.  Such  friends  had  Modjeska  in  the 
Santiago  CaHon,  when  she  went  out  to  rebuild  the 
fortune  wrecked  in  the  Santa  Ana  Valley. 

During  the  Industrial  Exhibition  at  New  Or- 
leans Mr.  Pleasants  was  commissioned  by  the  South- 
ern California  Bee  Association  to  act  as  the  super- 
intendent of  the  honey  exhibit  from  this  part  of 
the   State.     He   conveyed    to   the   Crescent  City  a 


< 


IN  THE  SANTIAGO  CANON. 


257 


compU'to  line  of  honey  plants  native  to  the  region, 
together  with  a  magnificent  display  of  the  product 
itself,  and  sample  colonies  of  the  three  races  of  bees 
at  work  on  the  coast.  Mr.  Pleasants  spent  some 
months  in  New  Orleans,  callint.  the  world's  atten- 
tention  to  the  fact  that  nowher ;  does  there  grow  a 
greater  variety  of  rich  bee  food,  i  nd  nowhere  is  there 
made  a  finer  quality  of  honey,  than  in  Southern  Cali- 


The  Honey  Makers. 

fornia.  The  supply  of  food  is  almost,  if  not  quite, 
perennial,  the  flowers  of  one  set  of  plants  coming 
forward  as  soon  as  others  disappear.  Notable 
among  them  are  the  blossoms  of  the  four  sages — 
the  white,  black,  silver,  and  hybrid;  also,  the  wihl 
sumac,  wild  coffee-plant,  golden  rod,  wiM  alfalfa, 
wild  buckwheat,  and  niauy  others.  These  were 
shown  mostly  in  a  living  state  in  Mew  Orleans,  so 
that  persons  interested  might  see  how  they  look. 
Not  only  the  Santiago  range,  but  most  of  the 
mountains  of  Southern  California  teem  with  honey 
plants.  The  San  Fernando  chain  is  especially  pro- 
lific of  sucii  growths. 


LLU_,    I 


;  v, 


Vi '  ' 


i:;.: 


XXX. 


fl   ^ONDBI^PUL    FLOWBI^   FESTIYAL. 


ill 


THE  devoting  a  chapter  of  this  work  to  a  South- 
ern California  floral  display  simply,  may  seem 
like  an  inconsiderate  waste  of  time  and  space;  but 
when  I  state  that  the  exhibition  was  probably  the 
most  extraordinary  aiFair  of  the  kind  that  ever  oc- 
curred, that  fact  will  be  received  as  a  sufficient 
apology  for  inserting  an  acount  of  it.  Should  the 
reader,  upon  reaching  the  end  of  the  chapter,  regret 
that  circumstances  did  not  call  him  to  Los  Angeles 
last  Spring,  let  me  remind  him  that  a  similar  mag- 
nificent Jete  will  be  given  in  that  city  for  several 
years  to  come,  and  each  will  probably  exceed  in 
loveliness  the  one  of  which  I  am  about  to  write. 
Thus  opportunity  will  be  afforded  to  retrieve  one's 
loss  in  this  respect. 

Beautiful  exhibitions  of  cut  flowers  and  growing 
plants  have  been  witnessed  in  Calfornia  for  a  num- 
ber of  years  past.  Santa  Barbara  has  rivaled  the 
coast  in  the  elegance  and  magnitude  of  her  displays, 
until  lios  Angeles  tried  her  hand  at  the  lovely  labor 
in  April,  1886.  Then  Santa  Barbara  lost  her  pretty 
pre-eminence,   and    all    the    rest  of  America    waa 

eclipsed.     The   prestige   then   gained,  quite   unex- 
158 


A  WONDERFUL  FLOWER  FESTIVAL.        2o9 


ppctedly  to  herself,  Los  Angeles  proposes,  albeit 
very  courteously,  to  retain.  The  complete  success 
achieved  last  April  is  evidence  that  this  will  not 
be  difficult  to  do. 

There  exists  in  Los  Angeles  an  organization 
whose  object  is,  to  aid  poor  women  in  the  city  who 
are  compelled  to  toil  for  daily  bread,  and  especially 
women  who  are  strangers.  Sincere  and  earnest  in 
their  purpose,  the  ladies  who  formed  the  organiza- 
tion two  years  ago  set  about  ascertaining  the  ext^^nt 
of  their  field.  To  their  surprise  they  found  in  the 
city  a  large  number  of  women  whose  earnings  were 
80  meager  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  their 
living  comfortably.  Not  a  few  were  young  women 
in  frail  health,  who  had  come  to  the  coast  from  all 
parts  of  the  country,  in  the  hope  of  regaining 
strength,  but  lacked  the  means  to  remain  long 
without  some  occupation.  Unable  to  forget  their 
pathetic  discoveries,  these  women  determined  to 
establish  a  home  where  those  whose  cases  appealed 
most  strongly  to  iheir  sympathies,  should  be  fur- 
nished the  comforts  and  pleasures  they  required,  at 
very  small  cost. 

So,  taking  the  name  of  the  Flower  Festival  So- 
ciety, thoy  resolved  to  give  annually,  for  some  time, 
a  grand  floral  entertainment,  devoting  the  proceeds 
to  this  purpose.  An  effort,  which  netted  them  a 
handsome  sum  was  made  in  the  Spring  of  1885,  and 
in  the  Autumn  of  that  year   followed  an  art   loan 


Ifjl 


ir- 


{>. 


;il- 


V 

M 

\ 

I 

ft 


2fiO 


CAUFORNIA. 


exhibition,  which  also  proved  a  great  success  finan- 
cially,  and  at  the  same  time  a  source  of  many-sided 
education  to  the  public.  How  it  was  possible,  even 
for  women  so  determined,  to  pick  up  in  a  city  no 
larger  than  Los  Angeles,  the  extensive  collection  of 
rare,  curious,  and  beautiful  articles,  many  of  which 
were  of  great  interest  on  account  of  their  age,  his- 
tory, or  intrinsic  value,  was  a  mystery. 

It  was  not  dreamed,  until  the  work  of  centrali- 
zation began,  what  a  wealth  of  rich  relics,  curios, 
souvenirs,  and  heir-looms  were  hidden  away  in  the 
homes  of  this  promiscuous  people.  All  lands  had 
a  share  in  the  display.  Kings,  and  grandees,  and 
warriors,  and  skillful  old  art-workers  lived  again 
in  the  garments  and  ornaments,  etchings,  engravings, 
paintings,  carvings,  and  books  of  a  past  day.  If 
the  exhibit  proclaimed  any  thing,  it  was,  that  away 
down  in  this  south-western  corner  of  our  country 
dwells  a  community  possessed  of  taste,  culture,  and  a 
veneration  for  the  wonderful  handicraft  and  head- 
craft  of  the  human  race.  Families  brought  out  for 
an  airing,  articles  skillfully  devised  by  savants  and 
savages,  priests  and  prisoners,  all  showing  that,  spite 
of  the  defacings  of  sin,  man  retains  something,  men- 
tally, of  the  image  of  God  in  which  he  was  made. 

This  over,  the  Winter  was  given  to  preparations 
for  the  event  of  the  Spring.  The  tabernacle  erected 
by  the  churches  of  Los  Angeles  for  the  meetings 
of  Dr.  Munhall  in  the  Autumn,  and  having  a  capac- 


A  WONDERFUL  FLOWER  FESTIVAL. 


2n 


ity  for  seating  five  thousand  persons,  was  engaged 
for  the  occasion.  The  next  step  was  t.>  form  the 
plan  of  the  festival.  And  herein,  as  wfill  a»  in  its 
successful  execution,  was  manifested  the  marked 
ability  of  the  society.  The  ladies  determine<5  v^hat 
features  the  exhibition  should  comprise,  besides  ihat 
V  f  the  flowers,  and  placed  each  department  in  charge 
of  some  woman  of  well-known  responsibility  and 
executivv'.^  talent,  leaving  her  to  select  her  own  assist- 
ants, and  to  conduct  its  affairs  to  the  end,  according 
to  her  own  judgment.  Then  a  gentleman  who 
combined  the  qualifications  of  an  architect  and  of 
a  landscape  gardener  was  engaged  to  construct  the 
necessary  booths,  and  dispose  them  in  the  building 
with  a  view  to  picturesque  and  landscape  effects. 
Next,  a  list  was  made  of  the  parties  in  the  city, 
vicinity,  and  surrounding  towns,  who  would  with- 
out fail  contribute  flowers  during  the  two  weeks' 
display,  and  also  of  the  kinds  of  flowers  they  would 
furnish.  This  known,  the  city  and  country  were 
districted,  and  the  days  assigned  for  calling  upon 
each  party  for  its  contributions.  Also,  committees 
were  appointed  to  collect  the  floweis  io  each  dis- 
trict on  the  days  specified.  The  object  of  all  these 
steps  was  to  insure  a  sufficient  supply  of  flowers 
to  effect  a  complete  renewal  of  the  exhibit  every 
day;  and  this  most  astonishing  feat  was  actually 
accomplished. 

Let  the   reader  imagine  the  magnitude  of  the 

23 


i 


m 


■  i-' 


!1 

i  i 

1 1 


in 

r 


m- 


I  {'; 


it  ■■ 


262 


CALIFORNIA. 


u«8k  of  replacing  thousands  upon  thousands  of 
slightly  withered  blossoms,  in  a  multitude  of  intri- 
cate and  elaborate  designs,  every  morning  before  ten 
ten  o'clock.  Furthermore,  conceive  of  a  country 
which  could  yield  the  lovely  products  in  such  pro- 
fusion that  the  change  could  even  be  thought  of. 
And  think  of  the  daring  and  energy  of  the  women, 
who,  without  precedent,  ventured  to  make  the 
attempt. 

The  plan  inside  the  tabernacle  embraced  thirty- 
four  booths.  Among  them  were  those  named  for 
the  towns  of  Tustin,  Orange,  Santa  Ana,  Pasadena, 
San  Gabriel,  Boyle  Heights,  San  Buena  Ventura, 
and  others,  all  of  which  were  daily  supplied  with 
fresh  tiowers  and  other  attractions  from  these  com- 
munities, thus  preserving  their  loveliness  to  the  end. 
The  Tustin  booth  was  conspicuous  for  its  beauty, 
being  kept  filled  with  gems  of  the  florist's  art.  •  One 
of  its  marvels  was  a  collection  of  pansies  of  every 
known  color,  kept  daily  renewed.  Another  was  a 
miniature  house,  with  walls  of  sweet  alyssum,  roof 
of  red  geraniums,  and  cornice  of  heliotrope.  The 
columns  of  its  piaz/a  were  wreated  with  smilax. 
The  house  stood  on  a  hill-side  built  of  geraniums. 
Leading  up  to  the  front  door  was  a  pathway  paved 
with  fragrant  banksia  roses.  Inside  the  lovely 
structure  appeared  floral  designs  made  solidly  of 
either  heliotrope,  banksia  roses,  waxy  calla  lillies, 
or  starry   margueiites,  with   not   a  wilted  blossom 


A  WONDERFUL  FLOWER  FESTIVAL. 


263 


among  tbem  during  the  entire  exhibit.  San  Gabriel 
showed  a  representation  of  its  old  mission  'hiireh, 
built  of  tuberoses,  alyssum,  geraniums,  and  otiier 
eifeetive  blooms.  But  the  Ventura  booth,  with  its 
source  of  supply  at  least  ninety  miles  distant,  car- 
ried off  the  palm  for  enterprise.  Invoices  of  fresh 
flowers  were  dispatched  from  that  town  every  after- 
noon at  five  o'clock,  and  in  twenty-three  hours 
were  delivered  at  the  tabernacle,  fifty  miles  of  the 
journey  having  been  accomplished  by  teams  and  the 
remainder  by  rail. 

At  the  booth  devoted  to  oranges,  trim  cones, 
cubes,  and  pyramids  of  the  royal  fruit  vanished 
daily  with  the  sun.  At  one  or  more  booths  exqui- 
site corsage  and  button-hole  bouquets,  with  little 
fancy  baskets  of  flowers,  were  retailed  in  great 
numbers,  keeping  constantly  employed  in  their 
manufacture  the  deft  fingers  of  a  committee  for  the 
purpose.  Besides  these  booths,  a  number  were  de- 
voted exclusively  to  the  sale  and  exhibition  of  loose 
cut-flowers  and  growing  plants.  Here  the  lovely 
creations  were  furnished  the  purchaser  in  any  form 
to  suit  his  fancy,  at  any  price,  of  any  variety.  This 
required  no  small  investment  in  twine,  tin-foil,  and 
other  appliances  for  instantly  constructing  hand 
bouquets.  A  great  demand  was  created  for  the  yel- 
low marigold  for  corsage  decoration.  Among  roses, 
strong  preference  was  shown  for  the  beautiful  zen- 
wood,  a  flower  having  nearly  the  same  characteris- 


if 


264 


CALIFORNIA. 


A  i 


h1 


it ' 


.i 


: 


ill 


iv 


tics  as  the  safrano,  except  that  its  color  is  a 
shrimp  pink. 

How  general,  and  how  warm,  was  the  interest 
taken  in  the  jHe  itself,  as  well  as  in  its  object,  is 
apparent  from  the  facts  given,  and  from  the  time 
and  labor  devoted  to  it  by  a  large  company  of  per- 
sons both  before  and  after  the  event. 

The  booths  varied  greatly  in  size  and  design. 
All  werP  covered  with  white  muslin  as  a  foundation 
for  the  decorations.  With  this  for  a  beginning, 
each  lady  in  charge  of  a  booth  taxed  her  taste  and 
skill  in  its  adornment.  The  roofs,  as  a  general 
thing,  were  made  either  of  evergreen  boughs  or  of 
tarlatan  in  bright  tints,  while  the  columns  were 
wreathed  with  smilax,  ivy  geranium,  and  many 
other  vines.  A  complete  departure  from  this  was 
a  booth  fairly  embowered  in  pampas  plumes.  This 
■was  very  striking.  Another  exception  was  a  booth 
the  inside  walls  and  roof  of  which  were  solid  with 
the  feathery  sprays  of  the  graceful  pepper  tree.  The 
dense  green  effect  was  relieved  by  the  free  use  of 
spirea  in  bloom. 

A  magnificent  feature  of  the  place  was  the  fount- 
ain, around  which,  in  a  broad  ring  of  green  turf 
were  imbedded  the  emblems  of  numerous  societies, 
some  being  very  elegant,  showing  exquisite  taste  in 
the  selection  and  arrangement  of  the  flowers.  All 
these  societies  had  a  representative  on  the  ground 
replacing   each    day   the    withered   flowers  in  their 


A  WONDERFUL  FLOWER  FESTIVAL.        205 

designs  with  frosh  ones.  In  close  i)roxinuty  to  this 
appeared  a  bank  of  eighty  thousand  cut  roses,  a  bed 
of  eleven  thousand  cut  calla  lillies,  and  near  at  hand 
seven  thousand  pansies  showed  their  faces — all  cut 
from  one  lady's  garden!  Not  one  perished  blossom 
was  allowed  to  be  seen  in  all  these  during  the 
festival.  There  was  no  decrease  in  the  supply  of 
flowers  during  the  entire  time,  and  at  the  close  of 
the  exhibit  enough  were  blooming  in  the  city  and 
country  to  immediately  repeat  the  unparalleled  dis- 
play. Fifteen  hundred  fan-palm  leaves — very  efTcct- 
ive  in  decoration — were  contributed  by  one  family. 
But  March  30th,  the  day  for  the  festival  to  open, 
had  arrived.  To  give  the  final  touches  to  every 
thing  during  the  day  was  an  herculean  task.  But 
when  the  tired  workers  left  the  place  for  their 
homes,  to  obtain  a  little  rest  and  prepare  for  the 
evening,  the  tabernacle  presented  a  scene  of  beauty 
impossible  for  pen  to  describe.  Now  the  evening 
has  come,  and  what  do  we  see?  A  vast  mass  of 
people  so  closely  wedged  together  in  the  aisles  and 
spaces,  that  no  one  can  obtain  any  thing  like  a  saiis- 
factory  idea  of  the  wonderful  display.  Eight  thou- 
sand persons,  it  is  said,  were  admitted  between 
eight  and  ten  o'clock.  The  perfume  from  millions 
of  flowers  111  led  the  air.  So  dense  was  the  odor 
that  breathing  was  difficult.  A  flood  of  electric 
light  turned  night  into  day.  An  admirably  drilled 
band  discoursed  excellent  music.     The  pretty  toilets 


I 


260 


CALIFORNIA. 


of  the  ladies  in  the  long  line  of  booths  added,  if 
possible,  to  thii  charm  of  the  scene.  .The  main 
features  of  the  exercises  were  the  procession  through 
the  aisles  of  Queen  Flora  and  her  train,  her  greet- 
ing to  the  people,  and  the  address  of  the  mayor  of 
the  city.  The  attractions  of  the  place  were  main- 
tained unabated  to  the  final  hour.  Multitudes 
thronged  the  tabernacle  day  and  evening,  seeming 
never  to  tire  of  the  beautiful  scene,  and  always  re- 
luctant to  leave. 

Aside  from  the  large  pecuniary  encouragement  to 
the  Festival  Society,  and  the  delight  afforded  to  thou- 
sands of  people  who  had  never  conceived  of  such  a 
sight,  the  exhibit  proved  of  great  utility  in  extend- 
ing the  culture  of  the  finer  varieties  of  flowers. 
Indeed,  the  tabernacle  became  a  grand  flower  ex- 
change', in  which  ideas,  knowledge,  and  experience 
gained  in  the  domain  of  Flora,  were  freely  com- 
municated. Men  and  women,  from  far  and  near, 
went  home  to  surround  themselves  with  more 
beauty;  to  multiply  their  ways  of  doing  good. 
Southern  Califi)rnia  immediately  began  to  increase 
its  stock  of  flowers  for  the  next  Spring's  festival. 


i  Iv 


XXXI. 
IlOS  flNGELES  TO  SAN   F^I^ANGISGO. 


WE  uttcrod  our  tearful  farewells  in  <lio  city  of 
Los  Angeles  on  the  morning  of  Tuosduy  last, 
having  spent  "-ne  year  among  its  remarkably  sym- 
pathetic and  hospitable  people ;  a  year  daily  bright- 
ened by  tonching  acts  of  kindness  performed  toward 
us  by  stranger  hands;  a  year  full  of  obligation  on 
our  part,  obligation  which  can  never  be  discharged 
by  us  in  other  way  than  by  holding  in  grateful 
remend>rance  the  friends  from  whom  we  have 
parted. 

The  civirens  of  lios  Angeles  have  set  before  them 
multij  lied  opportunities  for  doing  good,  not  only  in 
befriending  strangers  in  health,  but  in  soothing  the 
last  hours  of  dying  strangers,  and  faithfully  do 
many  of  them  irnprove  it.  Could  all  the  facts  ia 
reference  to  their  patient  and  gentle  care  of  such 
persons  be  made  public,  fJ»€  gratitud.  of  the  whole 
country  would  be  awakened,  since  from  ev.?ry  quar- 
ter of  the  land  have  people  gone  thither  in  pursuit 
of  health.  Of  these  a  large  proportion  wa  young 
men.  Coming  to  the  coast  very  ill,  oftentimes 
without  fortunes,  in  groat  need  of  gentle  attentions, 

they  have  been  received  into  the  homes  of  the  citi- 

267 


'   ill! 

4 


f  [hi 


h 


y 


m 


I ',; 


[  ' 


2(j8 


CALIFORNIA. 


zens,  and  by  their  inmates  have  been  as  assiduonsly 
nursed  as  if  they  had  been  brothers  or  sons,  until 
the  end,  when  they  have  been  either  gently  hiid  to 
rest,  or  have  with  great  painstaking  been  returned 
to  their  friends. 

Nor  is  it  only  to  the  citizens  of  Los  Angeles 
that  this  tribute  of  acknowledgment  is  due.  Fifty 
other  communities  equally  merit  it.  When  in  the 
enterprising  village  of  Snnta  Ana  a  short  time  ago, 
several  marked  instances  of  devotion  to  invalid 
yoimg  men,  by  the  citizens,  were  related  to  me.  In 
one  case,  occurring  among  some  Minnesota  people, 
an  outlay  of  nearly  two  hundred  dollars  was  incurred 
for  one  sufferer's  comfort,  with  no  expectation  of  a 
return  of  the  money. 

T  left  Southern  California  with  a  prospect  of 
soon  emerging  from  its  "annual  panic,"  caused  by 
the  tardiness  of  the  rains.  This  uneasiness  rarely 
holds  off  until  the  rains  are  much  past  due.  "Tak- 
ing its  start  about  the  middle  of  Autumn,  it  ac- 
quires dimensions,"  so  str^es  a  clergyman,  "  up  to 
the  middle  of  January.  By  that  time,  if  the  clouds 
have  not  sent  down  their  showers,  all  classes  of 
business  men  are  at  a  white  heat  of  anxiety."  They 
well  know  that  without  rain,  only  partial,  if  any, 
grain  crops  may  be  expected  the  next  year;  and  the 
crops  failing,  there  results  a  general  stagnation  of 
trade.  Those  departments  whicrh  depend  nmch 
u|>on  the  daily  wants  of  the  conununity  for  support, 


P 


m  -I 


LOS  ANOELES  AND  SAN  FRANCISCO.        2(11) 

are  the  best  snstiiiii«'<l,  hut  a  year  of  drought  sadly 
cripples  evcu  theui. 

It  is  said  that  the  pauic — very  naturally — crig- 
inates  with  the  farmers  and  stock-raisers.  To  the 
former,  a  rainless  Winter  signifies  a  direet  loss  in 
the  partial  if  not  total  loss  of  his  grain  crop  the 
next  year.  To  the  latter  it  means  the  feeding  of 
flocks  and  herds  from  the  beginning  of  one  Winter 
until  the  middle  of  the  next,  [t  may  also  betoken 
the  loss  of  large  numbers  of  sheep  and  cattle  by 
thirst  and  starvation.  On  this  coast,  as  everywhere, 
these  classes  of  producers  are  the  fountain-head  of 
the  money  resources  of  the  country.  When  they 
lock  their  coffers  in  anticipation  of  a  dry  sea.son, 
and  institute  a  strict  economy  in  the  household,  im- 
mediately the  towns  and  cities  are  in  trouble.  Then 
nothing  but  rain  can  clear  the  sky  of  the  future. 

Probably  no  more  rueftd  looking  pr  son  can  be 
seen  in  Southern  California,  wliilc  a  drought  is  in 
prospect,  than  the  owner  of  uiiles  of  rich  grazing 
land,  over  which  roam  his  thousands  of  cattle  and 
sheep.  Several  such  princely  proprietors  of  real  and 
personal  property  reside  in  the  city  of  Los  Angeles. 
Just  before  leaving  there  I  was  told  that  about  a 
year  ag(»  one  of  these  gentlemen,  the  owner  of  a 
celebrated  ranch  situated  a  few  miles  from  the  city, 
which  is  stocked  with  between  thirty  and  forty 
thousand  sheep,  had  spent  the  day  on  his  domain, 
looking  after  the  weifin'c  of  the  animals,      Iletin-n- 


I  U 


'■■    ■( : :  1 


270 


CAUFOnS'IA. 


\  1 


n    !  ;  (13 
»: 


i 


ing  to  the  city  toward  night,  he  entered  his  ivttract- 
ive  home,  wearing  a  gloomy  countenance,  and 
threw  himself  into  an  ea.sv  chair  before  the  fire. 
Observing  his  distressed  appearance,  his  wife  in- 
fjuired  what  was  the  matter. 

"Wife,"  said  he,  h)oking  up  at  her  with  an 
anxious  face,  "  unless  it  rains  to-night  I  shall  not 
be  worth  ten  cents  to-morrow,  for  many  of  the  sheep 
will  die.  But  an  all-night  rain  would  put  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  in  my  pocket." 

At  that  moment  there  were  some  indications  of 
a  shower.  The  air  was  cold  and  the  sky  was  over- 
cast with  an  unbroken  cloud.  Before  retiring,  the 
anxious  man  went  out  to  take  a  look  at  the  heav- 
ens. Lo!  the  whole  vault  above  him  was  as  clear 
as  crystal,  and  thickly  gemmed  with  stars.  Hope 
took  her  flight.  He  re-entered  the  house  and 
retired,  disheartened.  But  suddenly,  a  little  after 
midnight,  he  heard  the  music  of 

"  Myriads  of  niapsivo  rain-drops, 
Fulling  on  all  around  ; 
Some  were  dancing  on  the  house-tops, 
Some  were  hiding  in  the  ground." 

That  was  the  beginning  of  the  first  heavy  rain 
of  last  Winter.  The  proprietor  of  the  great  ranoho 
was  comforted.  Of  course  fruit  culture  continues 
whether  there  be  rains  or  not,  because  few  vines 
and  trees  are  planted  without  provision  for  irrigat- 
ing   thenj.     Hence    fruit    crops,   and   the    business 


LOS  A XaEL ES  A  ND  SA  X  FHA  ^X'ISCO.        2 71 

nttachinf]^   thereto,   arc   assured,   iinloss    there  come 
untimt'Iy  frost,  or  unkindly  insect  to  destroy  them. 

That   portion  of  the   Southern    Pneific  Kaihvay 
which    unites    the   cities  of   Los   Angeles  and  8an 


Mitidion  ol  oan  Fcn.un^o. 


Francisco  hears  the  traveler  through  some  ream 
sc(Miery.  First  it  crosses  the  beautiful  ValUy  <»f 
San  Fernando,  one  of  the  finest  wheat  sections  of 
Southern  California;  the  home  of  the  olive,  fig, 
pear,  pomegranate,  and  grape;  a  notable  grazing 
section,  and  the  seat  of  the  Mission  of  San  Fvr- 
uando,  the  seventeenth  in  order  of  the  line  of  mis- 


I'D 


:\'i 


272 


CALIFORNIA. 


sions  founded  by  the  Franciscan  Fathers  between 
San  Diego  and  San  Francisco.  Of  the  many  build- 
ings once  constituting  this  mission,  the  most  inter- 
esting is  the  one  erected  as  a  residence  for  the  priests. 
After  the  sequestration  of  the  missions  it  was  for 
several  years  the  home  of  General  Audrez  Pico. 
Major  B.  0.  Truman,  writing  of  the  structure,  says: 
"It  is  three  hundred  feet  long,  eighty  feet  wide 
between  the  walls,  which  are  four  feet  thick  and 
two  stories  in  height.  The  great  attraction  of  the 
building  is  the  corridor,  nearly  three  hundred  feet 
long,  and  made  of  columns  and  arches  of  superb 
masonry,  with  tile  roof  and  brick  floor.  A  vast 
succession  of  rooms  compose  the  interior,  and  con- 
stitute a  private  residence  unlike  any  other  in 
America." 

Drawing  out  from  the  station  of  San  Fernando, 
where,  on  either  side  of  the  track,  stood  a  village  of 
white  tents  occupied  by  the  Chinese  railway  hands, 
we  began  the  ascent  to  the  "San  Fernando  tunnel," 
six  thousand  nine  hundred  and  sixty-six  feet  long, 
with  a  grade  of  one  hundred  fieet  to  the  mile,  and 
requiring  seven  minutes  for  its  passage.  Twice  that 
number  seemed  to  have  passed  before  the  light  broke 
in  from  the  front  and  we  dashed  out  upon  Newhall, 
the  shipping  point  for  the  fountains  of  oil  concealed 
in  the  Fernando  range. 

Then  comes  the  Mojave  Desert,  with  its  inter- 
esting  cacti   on^hards,   m'   groves  of  Yucca   palm. 


LOS  ASGELES  AND  SAN  FRANCISCO.        273 

"We  whisked  through  miles  of  them,  the  trees 
planted,  in  plnces,  with  almost  the  regulnrity  of 
orange  orchards.  Their  clumsy  limhs  and  bunchy 
foliage  give  them  a  weird  appearance  which 
allies  them  to  a  past  day  and  a  vanished  people. 
Mojave  village  springs  out  of  the  hot  sand,  rejoices 
in  the  fervid  sunlight,  disdains  shelter  or  shade,  but 
is  all  alive  when  the  trains  stop  for  something  to 
eat.  From  this  point  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Rail- 
way branches  off  toward  the  East,  bearing  travelers 
within  a  few  miles  of  that  masterpiece  of  river 
plowing,  the  caiion  of  the  Colorado,  and  within  easy 
reach  of  two  of  the  largest  cattle  ranges  on  the 
continent. 

On  my  return  from  the  North  two  years  after 
that,  there  occurred  at  Mojave  a  funny  little  episode 
which  showed  how  necessary  it  is  that  women  who 
travel  alone  should  know  how  their  tickets  read. 
As  we  drew  up  at  the  place  a  fleshy,  good-natured 
looking  woman,  seated  a  little  back  of  me,  arranged 
to  take  her  luncheon  in  the  cars.  Procuring  n  small 
pailful  of  coffee  from  the  hotel,  she  was  soon  enjoy- 
ing her  tempting  eatables.  On  a  track  close  by 
stood  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  train,  just  ready  to 
roll  out  into  the  desert.  Most  of  the  passengers  on 
our  road  had  returned  from  dinner.  At  that 
moment,  looking  up  in  a  careless  way,  this  woman 
inquired  if  we  knew  of  any  one  on  the  train 
going   to    St.  liOuis. 


-ir 


I      n 


274 


CALIFORNIA. 


hi 


i 


V  '. 


"Are  you  poing  to  St.  Louis?"  asked  a  bright 
womiui  from  Phopuix,  Arizona. 

'•  Yes." 

"Does  your  ticket  take  you  over  the  Southern 
Pacific?  Seems  to  me  you  must  change  cars  here. 
If  so,  that  is  your  train;  and  it  is  about  to  leave." 

The  woman  quickly  opened  her  reticule,  exam- 
ined her  ticket,  and  found  to  her  dismay  that  she 
was  booked  to  St.  Louis,  via  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific. 
Away  then  went  her  coffee.  On  went  her  bonnet. 
Poll-niell  into  its  basket  went  her  luncheon.  Two 
ladies  sprang  to  her  side  to  help.  One  caught  her 
wraps  and  umbrella.  Another  hei  satchel.  The 
brakeman,  hearing  the  bustle,  came  in  and  seized 
her  pillows  and  blankets.  Then  the  caravan  started 
for  the  other  train,  stumbling  over  bricks  and  stones, 
and  stirring  up  the  dust.  That  moment  the  writer 
discovered  that  the  woman  had  left  her  veil,  seized 
it,  ran  after  the  others,  tossed  it  to  a  man  standjng 
on  the  platform,  and  asked  him  to  hand  it  to  her, 
just  as  the  train  moved  off.  How  she  must  have 
missed  her  tH)ffce! 

But  northward  we  go,  off  the  desert  at  last,  and 
climbing  into  the  mountains  again.  Now  and  then 
we  cross  warm,  grassy  valleys,  some  of  them 
thrv«ded  by  little  streams  of  water,  talking  gayly 
to  the  everlasting  heights  around.  Now  we  are  in 
the  Soledad  (^aiion,  thousands  of  feet  above  ihe  sea, 
and  climbing    steadily.      After  awhile  the  hills  lift 


SOLED  AD  CAfJON. 


275 


up  their  heads  grandly.  Around  sharp  pinnacles 
on  the  left,  and  far  above  us,  a  snow-storm  is 
raging,  the  only  thing  in  the  awful  solitudes  which 
has  motion,  except  our  steani-inipelled  train. 

Finally,  soon  after  dark,  we  gain  the  Tehachapi 
Pass,  four  thousand  and  twenty -six  feet  above  sea 
level.  Here  the  Coast  Range  forms  a  junction  with 
the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  the  result  is  some  of  the 
noblest  scenery  in  California.  A  descent  of  eleven 
miles,  and  we  have  reached  the  "  I^op,"  a  bit  of 
railroad  engineering  whi(^h  has  caused  more  com- 
ment than  any  other  on  the  continent.  And  when 
on*^  has  studied  the  ground. plan  of  the  work,  and 
understands  its  object,  he  does  indeed  wonder  that 
such  a  plan  should  have  been  conceived  for  achiev- 
ing such  a  residt,  on  a  surface  of  such  a  character. 

The  desire  was,  to  carry  the  road  out  of  the  pass 
without  running  the  track  up  and  around  the  side 
of  a  steep  mountain,  lying  in  the  path  of  the  survey 
at  the  point  where  the  loop  is  made,  a  course  it 
would  naturally  take,  but  one  involving  heavy  and 
expensive  construction.  To  accomplish  thi:»  a  cer- 
tain amoimt  of  vertical  distance  had  to  be  over- 
come. To  find  how  that  could  be  done  was  the 
great  thing.  Mr.  Ilood,  the  young  engineer  making 
the  survey,  drew  a  plan  by  which  he  believed  the 
feat  could  be  accomplished  and  avoid  the  mountain. 
He  sid>iiiitted  this  to  the  board  of  directors,  a 
board    unequaled    iu    all    the    history   of   railroad 


1' 


I 


I' 


?; 


Nil 


276 


CALIFORNIA. 


i||..'^« 


■r 


.1' 


!l 


t 

ill, 

'''''■•"". 

i\ 

iMfl 

1 

building  for  correct  judgment  and  sagacity.  The 
plan  was  at  onco  adopted  as  by  far  the  cheapest 
way  out  of  the  difTieiilty. 

The  loop  is  double  and  embraces  five  folds  ot 
track.  To  forni  the  first  loop  the  track  makes  the 
circuit  of  the  base  of  a  low  butte,  accomplishing  a 
horizontal  distance  of  three  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  ninety-four  feet,  or  about  three-fourths  of  a 
mile,  when  it  plunges  under  itself  through  a  tunnel 
four  hundred  and  twenty-six  feet  long,  by  which  a 
vertical  distance  of  seventy-seven  and  one-half  feet 
is  overcome.  The  next  loop  increases  the  gain,  and 
carries  the  road  successfully  out  ot  the  trouble. 
In  a  conversation  with  Mr.  Hood  himself  on  the 
subject,  he  stated  that  no  sooner  had  the  news 
of  the  work  gone  abroad  than  he  was  addressed 
relative  to  it  by  European  engineers,  and  as  early 
as  two  years  ago  two  similar  loops  had  been  con- 
structed among  the  mountains  of  the  Continent. 
The  Tehachapi  loop  was  very  easy  of  construction, 
and  financially  was  a  great  success.  Actual  sur- 
veys show  that,  with  all  the  doubling  of  the  track, 
the  road  is  only  fifty  feet  longer  than  it  would  have 
been,  had  it  been  run  around  the  mountain  side. 

Mr.  Hood  is  now  the  chief  engineer  of  that 
mighty  corporation,  the  Southern  Pacific  Company. 
Last  Spring,  1886,  he  was  busy  improving  the  sur- 
veys for  the  California  and  Oregon  Railroad,  which 
for  many  miles   leads   up  the  stupendous  canon  of 


THE  SAN  JOAQUIN  VALLEY. 


277 


tho  Sacramento  River,  and  after  crossing  some  inter- 
vening  rather  level  conntry,  performs  the  feat,  of 
crossing  the  Siskiyou  Mountains,  a  chain  which  ia 
the  peer  of  the  Cascades  in  height  and  niassiveuess. 


Valley  of  the  San  Joaqtuin. 
How  to  surmount  the  difficulties  of  these  great  phys- 
ical features  must  as  thoroughly  tax  the  genius  of 
the  man  as  did  those  of  Tehachapi. 

Our  train  passed  over  the  loop  about  nine  in 
the  evening.  At  early  breakfast  hour  next  morning 
we  were  at  Lathrop,  where  passengers  take  cars  for 
Sacramento.  For  hours  then, our  route  lay  through 
the  vast  San  Joaquin  Valley.  Miles  of  young  green 
wheat  stretched  away  on  either  side.     Farmers  were 

plowing    along    the    way.     It   was    December,    the 

24 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


Iffiia  Ilia 


IIIM 


12.0 


1.8 


1.25 

1.4 

1.6 

^ 6'    — 

► 

Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


^ 


,\ 


S 


s 


V 


\ 


w 


*,■> 

*> 


■V 


,  °<^  ' 


6^ 


% 


-b^ 


> 


•"%" 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


% 


w< 


(/j 


4   * 


278 


CALIFORNIA. 


■  ') 

1  i 

i 


Slimmer  time  of  the  coast.  At  ten  o'clock  we 
rolled  into  Oakland.  An  hour  later  we  were  in 
San  Francisco,  the  metropolis  of  the  Pacific  Coast ; 
the  rival  of  Chicago  in  marvelous  growth ;  a  young 
city,  old  in  wealth,  institutions,  commerce,  railroads, 
and  tributary  towns;  as  cosmopolitan  as  New  York; 
the  gateway  to  the  old  East,  to  the  isla  id  world  of 
the  Pacific.  We  spend  the  next  year  writing  of  its 
affairs,  people,  and  surrounding  country. 


f' 


i 

'         ■ 

i  .^ 

'^9 

'        ! 

i'l 

...^ 


3 


G^aciera  oi  Mount  Tucoma,  Was.iington  Territory. 
280  (See  page  430.; 


t        i, 


:,!J 


UP  ^]^p  pow]^ 


IN 


Oregon  and  Washington. 


XXXII. 


Fi^oM  San  Fi^angisgo  to  I^oi^tland 
BY  Sea. 


''£1 


i 


11^ 


AT  nine  o'clock  of  a  late  June  morning,  seven 
months  after  the  date  of  the  last  chapter,  the 
writer  rode  down  to  the  landing,  in  San  Francisco, 
where  lay  the  fine  steamship  Oregon,  of  the  San 
Francisco  and  Portland  line,  with  steam  np.  My 
name  was  on  her  passenger  list  for  the  current  trip. 
Stepping  from  the  carriage,  I  surveyed  for  a  mo- 
ment the  huge  craft,  her  decks  already  alive  with 
people,  and  instantly  realized  how  utterly  alone  I 
should  be  among  that  multitude  of  strangers.  Upon 
showing  my  ticket  at  the  plank,  a  sprightly  youth 
received  my  wraps  and  satchel  from  the  driver,  and 
conducted  me  to  my  nicely  situated  state-room. 
Quickly  arranging  my  eifects  for  the  voyage,  I 
locked  the  door,  and  stepped  outside  into  the  genial 

sunlight  and  the  freshening  breeze. 

281 


rrii- 


i 

1 

i"' 

'■l  ii 

1 

*l 

i 

1 

't  > , 


282 


ON  THE  OCEAN. 


On  the  dock,  waiting  to  see  the  noble  boat  off,  stood 
a  curious  crowd  of  people — white,  black,  yellow,  and 
brown,  old  and  young.  The  little  ones  of  the  com- 
pany, their  faces  upturned  ready  to  utter  "  good-bye" 
to  friends  on  board,  were  attired  like  the  flowers. 
A  gray-haired  couple  standing  close  to  the  water's 
edge  lifted  their  eyes  to  the  last  deck,  and  endeav- 
ored, amid  the  din  produced  by  shouting  deck- 
hands, tumbling  baggage,  and  rumbling  vehicles, 
to  repeat  some  tender  charge  to  a  lady  who  leaned 
over  the  railing,  eager  to  catch  every  word. 

Up  the  gangway,  meanwhile,  pushed  a  steady 
stream  of  men,  women,  and  children,  freighted  with 
wraps,  satchels,  umbrellas,  bird-cages,  and  other 
things — '4  thousand.  But  now  among  them  ap- 
peared a  face  I  knew.  It  was  that  of  one  of  San 
Francisco's  great-hearted  citizens.  Gaining  the  deck, 
he  glanced  around,  and,  discovering  me,  came  for- 
ward and  presented  me  a  lovely  bouquet,  a  parting 
gift  from  his  wi^e,  a  very  dear  friend.  A  long  way 
had  he  come  that  morning  to  brighten  my  outgoing 
by  this  fragrant  deed.  In  his  charming  home,  com- 
manding a  fine  view  of  the  Golden  Gate,  had  I 
passed  many  an  hour  of  delight  and  rest  during 
my  sojourn  in  the  city,  my  welcome  always  com- 
plete. Bringing  these  flowers  was  his  last  kindly 
act  for  me.  Just  before  the  Christmas  days  he  en- 
tered upon  the  sleep  from  which  the  waking  will  be 
by  the  Lord  himself.     "May  you  be  the  sickest 


V'li' 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  PORTLAND. 


283 


person  on  board!"  he  turned  to  say  as  he  passed 
down  the  plank,  and  1  was — almost. 

A  few  moments  more  and  the  Oregon  swept  out 
into  the  beautiful  bay.  "  Good-bye,  grandpa,"  pealed 
forth  a  sweet,  child  voice  from  the  upper  deck.  At 
the  same  time  a  tiny  hand  made  a  little  blue  parasol 
describe  several  quick,  uneven  circles  in  the  air,  as 
a  parting  salute.  "Good-bye,  darling,"  came  back 
in  manly  tones  from  the  landing.  Then  took  place 
a  general  flutter  of  handkerchiefs  on  ship,  on  shore, 
reminding  me  of  that  most  unique  proceeding, 
the  giving  the  "  Chautauqua  salute." 

Now,  reader,  come  to  the  starboard  side  of  the 
steamer.  See!  At  the  right  on  the  main-land  is 
Oakland,  a  beautiful  city  with  fifty  thousand  in- 
hiibitants,  and  always  bright  with  flowers.  To  the 
north  of  it,  slightly,  you  see  Berkeley,  the  seat  of  the 
State  University,  of  the  Asylum  for  Deaf  Mutes, 
and  the  location  of  many  pretty  homes,  surrounded 
with  almost  semi-tropic  bloom  and  verdure.  Turn 
now  toward  the  east.  Those  are  the  spires  of  Ala- 
meda, a  village  almost  without  a  rival  for  beauty  in 
all  California. 

But  here  w'e  are  just  opposite  Yerba  Buena,  one 
of  the  three,  small  islands  which  adorns  the  central 
portion  of  San  Francisco  Bay,  and  .lying  almost  in 
the  pathway  of  the  ferries  from  the  great  city  to 
Oakland.  "  Goat  Island  "  is  its  homely  American 
name,  a  reason  for  which  lies  some  years  back  in 


if  111 

I":  111 

■     pf 


'  J) 


•Ml 


•'h 


Mi": 


m 


ii4_. 


m 


\\i 


i,     > 


i 


1 


i'i 


^■•'. 

T-  ■  - 

1 ; ' ;  . 

lliiili 

i 


i! 


Ill 


284 


ON  THE  OCEAN. 


its  history.  It  stands  three  hundred  and  forty-six 
feet  above  the  water;  is  inhabited  by  the  keeper  of 
its  light,  and  serves  as  a  fog-signal  station,  as  well 
as  a  place  for  the  manufacture  and  storage  of  buoys, 
numbers  of  which  lie  scattered  about  on  the  other 
side.  It  is  about  midway  between  the  two  cities, 
they  being  separated  by  three  and  three-fourth 
miles  of  water. 

But  while  we  have  been  studying  geography  the 
Oregon  has  sped  on  her  way,  and  now  we  are 
abreast  of  "Alcatraz  Island,"  the  middle  gem  of  the 
cluster,  one  and  a  half  miles  north  of  San  Francisco, 
and  three  and  a  half  miles  east  of  the  Golden  Gate. 
It  stands  "one  hundred  and  forty  feet  above  low- 
water  mark;"  contains  about  twelve  acres,  chiefly 
solid  rock ;  is  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  -six- 
teen hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  irregular  in  shape, 
and  encircled  by  powerful  batteries,  in  which  are 
said  to  be  mounted  some  of  the  heaviest  guns  ever 
cast  in  America.  It  commands  the  entrance  to  the 
Golden  Gate,  and  forms  an  effectual  defense  for  the 
harbor  of  San  Francisco.  From  the  light-house 
visible  on  its  highest  point,  light  is  reflected  twelve 
miles  to  se«.  On  its  south-eastern  extremity  is  sta- 
tioned a  fog-bell,  which  peals  forth  notes  of  warning 
four  times  every  minute  in  heavy  weather.  The  cita- 
del— well  defended — on  its  top  furnishes  quarters  for 
about  two  hundred  men,  and  will,  if  necessity  re- 
quires, with  certain  adjacent  accommodations,  shelter 


"■^Sfl 


Ui; 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  PORTLAND. 


285 


three  times  that  numhcr.  Added  to  these  is  a 
series  of  stone  guard-houses,  Ghcll-proof,  defended 
by  strong  gates  and  drawbridges,  and  pierced  on 
all  sides  for  rifled  cannon.  Destitute  of  springs 
or  wells,  Alcatraz  receives  its  chief  supply  of 
water  from  the  main-land,  and  stores  it  beneath 
the  citadel. 

A  glance  toward  the  north  now,  brings  to  view 
Angel  Island,  much  the  largest  and  most  important 
of  the  group.  It  embraces  from  six  to  eight  hun- 
dred acres  of  valuable  land,  and  contains  large 
quarries  of  blue  and  brown  sandstone,  durable  in 
quality  and  of  great  utility  for  building  purposes. 
Of  it  are  constructed  the  government  works  at  the 
Navy-yard  on  Mare  Island,  near  the  northern  ex- 
tremity of  the  bay,  and  also  the  fortifications  at 
Alcatraz  and  Fort  Point.  The  latter  defense,  you 
observe,  stands  upon  the  southern  shore  of  the  bay, 
near  the  eastern  entrance  of  the  Goldea  Gate. 
Angel  Island  is  strongly  garrisoned,  and  the  pow- 
erful guns  of  its  three  fixed  batteries  defend  the 
harbor  in  all  directions,  insuring  the  safety  of  the 
Navy-yard  and  of  the  towns  and  cities  lining  the 
shores  of  the  bay.  Unlike  Alcatraz,  it  is  abun- 
dantly supplied  with  good  water  from  natural 
sources,  and  at  the  season  is  carpeted  with  flowers. 

A    more    favorable    hour    for  viewing  all    this 

charming  scenery,  including  the  Marin  County  hills, 

which  wall  in  the  Golden  Gate  on  the  north,  is  near 

26 


I 


r 


• 


t,«* 


f 


Hti 


Jl! 

ill 


286 


ON  THE  OCEAN. 


tlio  close  of  the  day,  or  when  the  sun  is  about  to 
drop  behind  the  high  elevations  in  the  west,  and 
the  harsh  din  of  San  Franciseo  waxes  faint  in  the 
evening  air.  Then  there  falls  over  the  pretty  isl- 
ands, over  the  stern  fortifieations,  the  distant  nionnt- 
ains,  the  njany-fashioned  craft  upon  the  water,  and 
over  the  inagnifieent  bay  itself,  just  the  light  which 
turns  the  entire  scene  into  a  pictifre  of  wonderful 
beauty.  For  convenience  at  elections  the  two  first 
islands  have  been  made  precincts  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  the  third  a  precinct  of  Marin  County. 

But  we  are  inattentive.  The  Oregon  is  already 
well  into  the  narrow  strait  through  which  passes 
commerce  from  all  parts  of  the  world  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  to  which,  by  universal  assent,  has  been 
given  the  name  "  Golden  Gate."  But  it  is  possible 
to  be  more  definite  than  that.  Strictly,  the  Golden 
Gate  is  the  Pacific  mouth  of  the  passage,  or  that 
portion  which  lies  immediately  between  Point  Bon- 
ita  on  the  north,  and  Point  Lobos  on  the  south. 
It  is  the  passing  between  these  heads  which  is  so 
much  dreaded  by  travelers  by  sea.  There  Neptune 
is  usually  on  the  alert  to  make  mortals  wretched. 
Let  us  hope  his  majesty  is  to-day  absorbingly  occu- 
pied in  some  far-away  quarter  of  his  realm,  and  we 
may  therefore  escape  being  sent  to  bed  at  noon. 

The  entire  strait  is  about  one  mile  wide  and 
two  miles  long.  Fort  Point,  on  the  south,  and  an 
abrupt  recession  of  the  Marin  County  hills,  on  the 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  PORTLAND. 


287 


north,  mark  its  junction  with  the  bay.  The  fortifi- 
cation from  which  Fort  Point  receives  its  name,  is 
a  brick  strnctnrc  modeled  after  Fort  Sumter,  and, 
before  the  recent  improvements  in  naval  warfare, 
was  considered  an  impregnable  work ;  but  before 
the  arms  now  in  use,  it  is  asserted,  it  would  not 
stand  one  hour.  On  the  green  slope  in  the  rear  of 
the  fort,  we  see  the  presidio,  embracing  the  barracks 


! -i ! 


The  Golden  Gate. 

aad  the  homes  of  the  officers.  East  of  this,  a  mile 
perhaps,  is  Black  Point,  also  fortified  and  garrisoned. 
Steadily,  after  leaving  the  landing,  the  breeze 
strengthened,  and,  as  we  sailed  out  between  "the 
heads"  and  turned  northward,  blew  directly  in  the 
face  of  the  Oregon,  cold  and  disagreeable,  and  drove 
the  passengers  to  their  rooms  for  warmer  wraps. 
As  the  night  drew  on,  and  w^ore  away,  the  wind  in- 
creased to  a  gale.  Monday  morning  found  the  sea 
furiously  wrathy,  and  the  wind  still  sweeping  south- 


I' 


ll  ■ 
It'll ' 

'it 


f. 


Ml 


I  I 


288 


ON  THE  OCEAN. 


ward.  Through  that  day,  and  onward  to  midnight, 
the  brave  vessel  plowed  right  into  the  heart  of  great 
waves,  frequently  shipping  heavy  seas  and  deluging 
her  deeks  with  water.  Thus,  for  thirty  hours  or 
more,  did  the  misnamed  ocean  treat  us  in  this  un- 
Pacific  manner.  Of  the  passengers,  barely  a  half- 
dozen  deserted  their  berths  the  second  «luy.  These 
were  hardened  sea-goers,  who  had  witnessed  the 
performance  before,  and  were  used  to  it.  They  not 
only  took  the  rocking  and  the  drenching  patiently, 
but  in  one  or  two  instances  even  jocularly. 

Upon  arriving  off  Cape  Blanco,  a  little  after 
midnight,  the  Oregon  suddenly  glided  into  calm 
water  as  had  been  foretold,  and  on  Tuesday  morn- 
ing, the  third  day  out,  the  voyagers,  upon  emerging 
from  their  state-rooms,  beheld  an  ocean  scene  of 
wonderful  beauty.  The  sun  shone  brightly  and 
warmly.  The  sky  was  without  a  cloud.  The  air 
was  balmy  and  exhilarating.  The  sea,  almost  as 
smooth  as  a  mirror,  flashed  and  sparkled  as  if 
sprinkled  with  diamonds.  Myriads  of  tiny  sea-duck 
were  gracefully  skimming  the  surface  of  the  water, 
or  were  gleefully  describing  circles  above  it.  Here 
and  there,  on  the  ocean  side  of  the  boat,  rose  slen- 
der columns  of  water,  straight  into  the  air  a  distance 
of  six  or  eight  feet,  and  then  quickly  broke  into 
feathery  spray,  the  color  of  the  rainbow,  and  floated 
away  in  iridescent  mist.  What  sent  up  the  columns? 
The  Oregon  was  passing  through  a  school  of  whales. 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  PORTLAND. 


28<J 


Occasionally  one  of  the  monsters  would  rise  to  the 
surface  and  remain  in  sight  until  all  had  a  good 
view  of  him,  thus  eonferring  a  special  favor  on  those 
who  had  seen  whales,  only  in  skeleton,  in  the  mu- 
seums; or  in  ink,  in  books. 

On  the  starboard  side  (|  ilie  another  scene  was 
presented.  We  were  f  I'ting  Orou;  ii's  coast,  six 
miles  perhaps,  out  from  shore  Inland,  a  varying 
distance,  loomed  up  the  Coast  Range  of  mountains, 
looking  cool  and  indifferent  behind  their  veil  of  deep 
blue.  Presently  the  cry  of  "Tillamuok  Head!" 
sounded  along  the  deck,  and  then  the  learned  ones 
began  to  tell  the  story  of  "  Tillamook  Light," 
which  crowns  a  bare  brown  rock,  rising  many  feet 
above  the  ocean,  and  about  one  mile  out  from  the 
"Head,"  a  bold,  almost  peipendicidar  cliff  on  the 
main-land.  Between  the  beacon  and  the  promontory, 
where  the  water  is  seventeen  fathoms  deep,  there 
flow  sw:'ft  eounter-currents  of  the  sea.  These  cur- 
rents render  the  passage  of  the  channel  extremely 
dangeroub,  especiallv  at  night.  Associated  with  the 
spot  are  some  paii/ul  casualties,  which  occurred 
before  the  light  wan  erected. 

"  I  can  give  you  some  points  about  that  danger- 
ous rock,  madam,"  said  Mr.  Gilmore^  the  chief  en- 
gineer, approaching  me,  as  with  my  glass  I  scanned 
the  islet  of  stone,  and  the  formidable  head-land  back 
of  it.     I  thanked  him,  and  he  \yent  on  to  say : 

"When    the    government    decided    to    place    a 


i 

.  ■  i  -I 

4 


Pi 


:ij 


290 


ON  THE  OCEAN. 


warning  light  before  Tillamook  Head,  the  contract 
for  its  erection  was  awarded  to  a  friend  of  mine. 
Something  like  twenty  or  thirty  feet  had  to  be 
blasted  off  the  top  of  the  rock,  in  order  to  obtain 
space  for  the  foundation  of  the  structure.  The  task 
proved  a  very  difficult  one,  and  one  day,  when  my 
friend  and  four  or  five  others  were  busy  at  their 
work,  with  high  seas  rolling  all  around  them,  his 
foot  slipped,  and  in  a  flash  he  was  gone.  That  was 
in  1879  or  '80.  One  dark  night,  in  1881,  before 
the  tower  for  the  light  was  quite  finished,  an  English 
steamer,  mistaking  her  course,  got  into  that  passage. 
Two  men,  who  were  sleeping  in  the  basement  of  the 
tower,  were  awakened  by  the  grating  of  her  boxes 
against  the  rock.  Springing  instantly  from  bed, 
they  ran  out  upon  the  rock,  swung  a  light,  and 
shouted  into  the  darkness: 

"'You  are  in  the  channel  before  Tillamook 
Head.' 

"They  then  heard,  from  on  board,  a  command 
to  reverse  the  engine,  but  there  followed  no  other 
sounds.  The  next  morning  a  steamer's  masts 
pointed  upward,  out  of  the  sea  near  by.  Forthwith 
launching  their  boat,  the  two  men  propelled  them- 
selves around  to  the  north  of  the  head,  where  were 
some  settlers  living.  Arousing  them,  they  lowered 
parties  over  the  steep  cliff  to  the  water  below. 
There,  in  a  narrow  recess  of  the  rocks,  they  found 
the  dead  bodies  of  sixteen  men,  wa.shed  in  from  the 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  PORTLAND. 


291 


wreck.  Not  a  soul  liad  survived  the  disaster.  Re- 
port of  the  steamer's  loss  was  imniediiitely  made  to 
Washington,  and  the  government  ordered  the  dan- 


Tillamook  Light. 

gerons  rock  to  be  lighted  without  delay.  In  pre- 
vious times  numerous  casualties  have  occurred  at 
the  spot." 

It  is  a  little  singular  how  firmly  such  tales 
fasten  themselves  in  the  memories  of  men.  Prob- 
ably not  one  of  the  Orcf/on^s  ]>assengers,  who 
listened  to  Mr.  Gilmore's  several  recitals,  will  ever 
forget  them,  or  perilous  Tillamook  channel.  The 
height  of  Tillamook  Rock  is  one  hundred  and 
thirty-eight  feet  above  the  sea.  There  are  times 
when  the  custodian  of  the  light  is  obliged  t<i  abide 


1* 


r 


-,  M 


292 


ON  THE  OCEAN. 


m 


It' 


III 


li! 


iu  his  isolated  abode  for  weeks,  witliout  coiuinuni- 
catiou  with  the  shore.  Usually,  in  the  Autumn, 
provisions  to  last  for  months  are  stored  beneath  the 
tower.  Ou  one  occasion  su])plies  for  half  a  year 
were  unloaded  upon  the  rock.  That  night,  the 
keeper  having  failed  to  remove  them  to  the  vaults, 
a  fierce  storm  arose  and  washed  the  whole  invoice 
into  the  hungry  sea. 

The  next  object  of  general  interest  was  Mount 
St.  Helens,  a  splendid  solitary  snow  cone,  piercing 
the  atmosphere,  eighty  miles  away,  in  Washington 
Territory,  and  yet  plainly  visible  from  the  deck  of 
the  steamer.  Upon  some  of  the  passengers,  who 
saw  the  majestic  snow  cone  for  the  first  time,  the 
effect  was  peculiar.  Statue-like,  far  enough  away 
to  be  shrouded  in  mystery,  the  mountain  seemed 
a  Mikado  of  the  old  regime,  holding  absolute  sway 
over  the  thousands  of  lesser  summits,  lifting  their 
heads  cloudward  all  about. 

Presently,  now,  there  fell  upon  our  ears  at  reg- 
ular intervals,  a  loud,  hoarse  cry  which  sounded 
much  like  a  tone  of  distress.  "What  is  that?" 
asked  several  of  the  company. 

"  We  are  approaching  the  mouth  of  the  Colum- 
bia," answered  the  engineer,  "and  that  is  the  warning 
voice  of  the  buoy,  which  you  see  just  ahead,  there." 

How  the  thing  moaned  and  groaned  as  the 
Oregon  glided  by,  as  if  really  afraid  of  failing  in 
duty !     Like  a  giant  with  lusty  lungs,  the  bellows- 


^T^ 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  PORTLAND. 


293 


throated  creature  ceaselessly  sends  out  its  never-to- 
be-forgotten  cries,  which  seem  to  say :  "  Beware  of 
the  bar  of  the  Columbia."  Even  above  the  roar  of 
the  ocean,  may  manners  sailing  amid  darkness  and 
fog  hear  its  notes  of  alarm. 

Tiie  Oregon  sailed  right  on,  paying  no  heed,  and 
ere  we  were  aware  had  headed  eastward  and  was 
crossing  the  bar.  The  tide  was  full,  and  without 
the  slightest  difficulty  she  floated  into  the  splendid 
stream,  with  Cape  Disappointriient  on  the  north, 
and  Fort  Stevens  on  the  south.  The  broad  ex- 
pansion of  the  river  from  its  mouth  to  the  city 
of  Astoria,  a  distance  of  fifteen  miles,  is  known  as 
Chinook,  or  Astoria  Bay.  But  what  means  this 
multitude  of  tiny  craft  with  sails  all  set,  which 
decks  the  beautiful  sheet? 

"  That  is  a  small  section  of  the  salmon  fleet  of 
the  Columbia,"  answered  a  gentloman  standing  near. 
"And  by  the  way,  madam,  the  salmon  industry  is 
one  of  the  most  important  subjects  to  which  you 
can  give  attention  in  the  North-west.  Between 
here  and  Astoria  there  are  a  thousand  boats  engaged 
in  taking  the  fish  sometimes,  with  two  men  to  each 
boat.  What  a  pity  you  ate  going  on  to  Portland 
to-night!  Why  do  n't  you  stop  at  Astoria?  That's 
the  place  to  get  information  about  the  pursuit.  I 
tell  you  there  's  no  end  of  interest  attached  to  it." 

Upon  his  stopping  to  take  breath,  I  inquired  if 
he  were  engaged  in  the  salmon  trade. 


1  1 


1 4' 

!3 


■1 F;"' 


II  ^i 


:!.■;. 


294 


ON  THE  OCEAN. 


"No,  I  live  twenty  miles  up  the  Washington 
coast.  But  salmon  fishing  is  one  of  the  leading 
lines  of  business  on  this  coast,  and  I  wish  you  'd 
look  into  it."  I  assured  the  enterprising  man  that 
my  plans  comprehended  a  return  to  Astoria  the 
next  week  for  that  very  purpose.  W  hereupon  he 
appeared  delighted. 

A  little  before  sunset  the  Oregon  floated  up  to 
her  docks  in  the  oldest  town  of  the  State.  Seventy- 
six  years  ago  it  was  founded  by  John  Jacob  Astor, 
in  his  day  the  most  notable  fur-trader  in  America. 
It  was  Mr.  Astor's  intention  to  make  the  place  "a 
trading-post  and  half-way  fur-station  between  New 
York  and  China."  Not  approving  of  the  project, 
the  "British  North-west  Fur  Company"  deter- 
minedly resisted  his  attempts,  and  sought  to  gain 
possession  of  the  post,  and,  eventually,  through 
the  treachery  of  one  of  Mr.  Astor's  partners,  who 
was  in  charge  of  the  place,  it  fell  for  a  time  into  the 
hands  of  this  company.  At  that  period  the  En- 
glish crown  claimed  all  the  territory  now  included  in 
Oregon  and  Washington.  And  British  subjects  en- 
gaged in  the  fur-trade  throughout  the  region  strenu- 
ously ()j)posed  American  occu})ation  of  the  ground 
for  the  same  purpose.  Subsequently  the  portion 
south  of  the  forty-ninth  parallel  was  yielded  to  the 
United  States,  and  soon  after  a  little  settlement 
sprang  uj)  around  the  post.  The  ])lace  is  still  but 
a  village,  but  has  recently  nuich  increased  in  extent. 


SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  PORTLAND. 


29i 


It  stretches  some  distance  up  the  south  bank  of  the 
Columbia,  and  also  quite  up  the  bluff  at  its  most 
accessible  point.  Its  situation  is  really  pleasant. 
Spite  of  the  rain  which  had  been  falling  for  some 
time,  I  went  ashore  for  a  short  walk  through  the 
nearer  streets.  Many  features  suggested  the  salmon 
industry,  by  which  I  imagine  the  town  is  largely 
sustained.  But  with  regard  to  that,  I  shall  be 
better  informed  next  week. 

Discharging  a  portion  of  her  cargo,  and  taking 
on  a  "river  pilot,"  the  steamer  resumed  her  course 
toward  the  western  Portland.  For  many  miles 
above  Astoria  the  channel  for  large  steamers  lies 
near  the  Washington  side  of  the  river.  The  scenery 
is  attractive  much  of  the  distance.  Bold  hills' 
clothed  with  green  and  studded  with  feathery  firs' 
come  down  to  the  very  brink.  In  soiic  localities 
lofty,  almost  perpendicular  rocks,  clearly  of  igneous 
origin,  skirt  the  stream  for  many  rods.  On  the 
other  hand,  its  banks  on  the  Oregon  side  show 
stretches  of  low  land,  which  in  some  places  are  very 
picturesque.  Often  a  line  of  distant  blue  hills  or  a 
fringe  of  dense  timber  frames  them  in.  The  Colum- 
bia is  studded  with  numerous  islands.  Even  those 
which  are  low  and  marshy  contribute  much  to  the 
loveliness  of  the  scenes. 


« ja 


'•! 


XXXIII. 


^OI^IPLAMD   ON    THE   ^ILLAMETTB. 


llw 


FIVE  o'clock,  Wednesday  morning,  July  1st, 
found  us  at  the  landing  in  the  western  Port- 
land, .six  hundred  and  eighty-three  miles,  by  sea, 
from  San  Francisco,  and  located,  like  its  namesake 
in  the  Pine  Tree  State,  on  an  edge  of  the  continent. 
It  is  a  handsome  city,  and  toward  itself  probably 
draws  more  footsteps  in  a  year  than  does  the  Maine 
metropolis  in  five.  How  fortuitous,  apparently,  are 
the  circumstances  which  locate  certain  cities  where 
need  of  them  will  be  great,  where  they  will  natu- 
rally dominate  vast  regions  of  country,  and  supply 
large  numbers  of  people !  A  trifling  necessity,  a 
narrow  purpose,  or  a  transient  scheme,  is  oftentimes 
the  cause  of  their  origin.  And  yet  never  too  small 
is  such  a  beginning,  to  enter  into  the  plan  of  Him 
whose  designs,  cities,  as  well  as  nations,  carry  out. 
Strange,  too,  are  the  happenings  by  which  places 
are  sometimes  named!  A  bare  chance,  a  happy  hit, 
a  thoughtless  suggestion,  or  better,  an  attachment 
to  some  snot  far  away,  settles  the  question.  But 
how  came  the  continent  with  two  Portlands?  Forty 
years  ago  the  coming  Winter,  two  men  built  the 
first  house  on  this  site,  their  imaginations  picturing  a 
290 


PORTLAND  ON  THE  WILLAMETTE. 


297 


future  city  rising  on  the  ground.  One  of  tliem  hailed 
from  the  grand  Old  Bay  State,  and  wanted  to  call 
the  place  "  Boston."  The  other  must  have  strayed 
from  Maine,  for  he  had  a  preference  for  "  Portland." 
To  settle  it  they  tossed  a  penny  into  the  air,  and 
Portland  won.  Named  simply  by  chance,  you  see, 
but  well  named,  after  all.     Just  as  good  as  Boston. 

The  beautiful  city  lies  on  both  sides  of  the 
Willamette  River,  and  approaches  forty  thousand 
in  population,  the  west  side  claiming  three-fourths 
of  the  number.  Though  very  crooked,  the  general 
course  of  this  stream  for  a  distance  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  from  its  mouth,  is  from  south  to 
north.  Thus  naturally  we  have  "  East  and  West 
Portland  "  far  the  two  sections  of  the  town.  Com- 
munication between  them  is  by  steam  ferries,  four 
in  number.  The  Willamette  is  navigable  to  Port- 
land by  the  largest  sea-going  ships,  making  the  city 
practically  an  ocean  port,  though  distant  from  the 
sea  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  miles.  In  width 
the  river  varies  greatly.  At  the  point  where  the 
principal  ferries  ply  it  is  about  a  half-mile  wide. 

Inevitably  where  two  towns  confront  each  other 
with  but  a  narrow  water-way  between  them,  one 
of  them  secures  the  larger  share  of  wealth,  busi- 
ness, railroads,  and  newspapers,  together  with  the 
finest  churches,  school-houses,  and  other  public 
buildings.  The  city  on  the  Blue  Willamette  forms 
no  exception  to  the  rule.     In  Portland  proper,  cen- 


/    .  ri 


if 


M»> 


1 1 


H-  ;  i 


ih 


I 


,i.^ 


i  I 

f  I 


298 


OREGON. 


ter,  for  the  present  certainly,  most  of  the  facilities 
for  the  growth  and  prosperity  of  the  place.  It  is 
of  itself  a  beautiful  city,  threaded  by  many  pic- 
turesque streets,  and  for  its  size  is  one  of  the 
wealthiest  in  the  Union.  The  stranger  is  surprised 
to  find  here  a  town  of  its  dimensions.  Multitudes 
of  my  readers  can  remember  when  the  Portland  of 
the  Pacific  did  not  exist.  It  now  aspires  to  be,  and 
to  an  important  degree  is,  a  business  rival  of  San 
Francisco.  This  is  due,  of  course,  to  the  completion 
of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railway.  Since  that  event 
the  latter  city  has  suffered  a  marked  restriction  of 
its  traffic  from  the  North.  So  has  it  also  from  the 
South,  the  Southern  Pacific  road  having  made  Los 
Angeles  neighbor  to  the  vast  East.  Thus  instead 
of  one  metropolis  the  coast  now  has  three,  with  the 
semi-tropical  city,  particularly,  making  phenomenal 
strides  in  material  growth. 

Portland  experienced  a  terrible  stroke  of  paral- 
ysis from  the  second  financial  disaster  to  the  North- 
ern Pacific  Railway,  several  of  its  wealthiest  citizens 
being  heavy  losers  in  that  crash.  Nor  has  the  place 
yet  recovered  from  the  blow,  though  there  is  per- 
ceptible a  steady  effort  toward  regaining  the  lost 
ground.  The  local  journals  are  urging,  I  notice,  a 
larger  investment  of  capital  in  manufactures  in  the 
city,  and  the  hearty  welcoming  to  their  midst  out- 
side money  and  enterprise,  as  the  surest  means  of 
hastening  a  return  of  those  "  days  of  abundance," 


I 


\1 


I 


= 

:!'! 


in 


!':i 


V.     I 


i 


bii 


300 


OREGON. 


now  so  much  lamented  "as  having  passed  away 
with  the  advent  of  the  Northern  Railroad." 

West  Portland  occupies  an  exceptionally  fine 
location  both  for  business  and  for  beauty.  Practi- 
cally the  Willamette  bounds  it  on  the  north  and 
east,  making  nearly  a  square  turn  midway  of  the 
city,  giving  plenty  of  water  front,  while  back  from 
the  river  a  little  distance,  a  bold  bluff  sweeps  around 
on  the  south  and  west.  Crowding  close  against 
this  is  a  succession  of  high  hills,  affording  delightful 
sites  for  residences,  and  splendid  views  of  some  of 
the  grandest  scenes  on  the  coast.  From  the  bluff 
the  land  descends  with  an  admirable  grade  to  the 
river  in  two  directions,  furnishing  excellent  drainage 
and  many  lovely  views  up  and  down  the  long, 
straight  streets.  Those  running  east  and  west  are 
especially  picturesque.  Crossing  them  at  certain 
points,  one  involuntarily  stops  and  asks  himself: 
"  What  produces  this  charming  effect  ?"  Then,  first, 
he  notes  the  long  ascending  or  descending  grade  of 
the  street.  Next  he  takes  in  the  line  of  elegant 
shade-trees  on  either  side,  with  here  and  there  the 
bits  of  terraced  lawns.  To  all  these  he  adds,  lastly, 
the  glimpses  of  pretty  homes  near  and  far  away. 
Now  he  understands  why  he  stopped  so  suddenly  in 
his  hurried  walk,  delighted  by  something;  by  what, 
he  could  not  tell.  A  score  of  times  have  I  been  so 
arrested  in  my  quiet  rambles  about  the  city. 

Mainly  the  thoroughfares  cross  at  right  angles. 


PORTLAND  ON  THE  WILLAMETTE.         301 


The  blocks  thus  laid  off  are  two  hundred  feet 
Bqnare.  Around  most  of  them  stands  a  cordon  of 
vigorous  elms,  maples,  walnuts,  locust-trees,  with 
now  a  trim  poplar,  a  feathery  willow,  or  a  splendid 
mountain  ash,  fairly  aflame  with  scarlet  berries. 
The  latter  remind  me  of  the  city  of  Oswego,  New 
York,  seen  in  August,  thirty  years  ago. 

But  charming  streets  are  not  the  only  interesting 
things  to  be  seen  in  Portland.     Let  us  walk  around 


!■  I 


I 


Mount  Hcol 

into  Clay  Street,  corner  of  Fifth,  for  a  moment. 

Now    look    off   eastward.     You   are    face   to   face 

with  Mount  Hood,  the  magnificent,  snow-clad  for 

ages,  a  wonder  ever  since  man  was  made,  one  of 

nature's  masterpieces  on  this  coast.     "How  near  it 

seems !"     Ah,  but  it  is   fifty   miles   away.     Every 

time  the  inmates  of  this  home  on  our  right  open  its 

front  door  and  glance  eastward  they  behold,  if  the 

26 


302 


OREGON. 


i  ! 


.1  i 


jl. 


:(    i! 


Ill 


woatlior  be  clear,  this  monarch  of  the  Cascades. 
"  Do  not  frequent  views  breed  contempt?"  Not  for 
kingly  monntains. 

I  invite  you  to  pass  with  me  through  Fourth 
Street  on  our  way  home.  Now  we  are  at  the  sjiot. 
Turn  your  eyes  toward  the  northern  horizon.  That 
dazzling  object  peering  down  upon  us  through  the 
leafy  trees  is  beautiful  Mount  St.  Helens,  sixty 
miles  distant.  Mantled  in  immaculate  snow,  it 
seems  like  a  being  from  heaven,  appointed  to  keep 
an  eye  upon  the  goings  and  doings  of  these  Ore- 
gonians.  Overflows  of  lava  from  this  mountain  have 
been  witnessed,  it  is  said,  during  the  past  half  century. 

Portland  contains  many  handsome  residences,  of 
which  the  great  majority  look  fresh  and  new,  as  if 
built  within  the  past  five  years.  Like  most  of  the 
homes  in  the  city  of  Cleveland,  Ohio,  each  presents 
its  own  green  yard  ana  separate  picture  of  shrubs, 
vines,  and  flowers.  The  dwellings  and  lawns  of 
numbers  of  the  wealthier  citizens  occupy  an  entire 
square.  The  home  of  Mr.  J.  N.  Dolph,  the  present 
United  States  Senator  from  Oregon,  is  so  situated. 
The  premises,  bounded  by  four  streets,  front  upon 
Fifth,  between  Jefferson  and  Columbia.  The  house, 
a  two-story  white  frame,  with  a  hi'gh  attic  and  a 
lofty  tower,  commands  a  wide  area  of  both  Oregon 
and  Washington.  Within  the  range  of  vision  from 
the  inviting  upj)ermoat  room  of  the  tower  are  to  be 
seen  several  of  the  notable  snow  cones  of  the  region. 


PORTLAND  ON  THE  WILLAMErTK, 


S()3 


Of  tliose,  Mount  Adams  and  Mount  St.  Helens 
are  in  Washington.  Oregon  claims  Mount  Jef- 
ferson and  Mount  Hood.  The  last  coast  survey 
gives  the  latter  a  height  of  11,225  feet.  St.  Helens 
cleaves  the  air  to  a  distance  of  9,750  feet ;  while 
5,8G0  feet  content  both  Adams  and  Jefferson.  For 
the  reader  to  conceive  of  the  splendid  effect  of 
these  grand  elevations,  rising  majestically  here  and 


'  .il 


Reaidenae  of  Senator  Dolph. 
there  out  of  the  landscape,  is  iiopossible  without 
seeing  them.  One  view  of  them  is  ample  compen- 
sation for  a  journey  hither.  During  his  term  at 
Washington,  the  home  of  Senator  Dolph  is  occupied 
by  the  family  of  a  younger  brother,  Mr.  Cyrus 
A.  Dolph,  himself  a  lawyer  of  ability  and  influence 
in  Portland.  Within  its  walls  is  practiced  daily  a 
hospitality  like  Abraham's — ready,  unstinted,  often 
making  glad  tho  heart  of  the  stranger,  as  the 
writer  can  attest. 


M' 


, 


if! 


If' 


'U'.\' 


i!! 


'!    i 


iM 


;]04 


OREGON. 


Through  the  center  of  Portland  there  stretches 
a  succession  of  public  parks,  at  which  the  public 
may  simply  look  as  it  passes  by.  All  are  inclosed 
separately,  and  set  with  pretty  Oregon  trees.  In 
none  of  them  are  there  flowers,  rustic  seats,  nor 
trim  walks  bordered  with  velvet  turf.  Numerous 
fine  residences  front  upon  them,  but  they  only  in- 
crease their  unsightliness  by  contrast.  Thrown  open 
and  made  attractive,  these  sunny  reservations  would 
enhance  beyond  estimate  the  beauty  of  Portland, 
and  would  become  the  delight  of  citizens  who 
seldom  if  ever  recreate  beyond  the  city  limits.  Laid 
oiF  in  front  of  the  court-house,  however,  is  a  plaza  of 
considerable  extent  which  partially  meets  this  want. 

The  one  extremely  ornate  public  building  in  the 
city  is  that  for  the  high-school.  No  other  place  I 
have  visited  on  the  coast  contains  its  equal  in  this 
respect.  Architecture  not  being  my  strong  point,  I 
can  not  mention  the  order  to  which  it  belongs,  but 
I  should  say  to  the  composite  style.  The  architect 
himself  may  know.  He  has  certainly  not  left  the 
purpose  of  the  building  in  doubt;  for  on  the  front 
of  it,  on  both  sides  the  tower,  appear  the  words 
"  High  School  "  in  very  legible  characters.  When 
completed  the  structure  will  have  cost  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  The  system  of  graded  schools  in 
the  city  is  conceded  to  be  excellent.  Episcopal 
and  Catholic  private  schools  are  well  sustained  in 
the  place. 


PORTLAND  ON  THE  WILLAMETTE.         305 


Areliitt'cturally  speaking,  most  of  the  cluirch 
edifices  represent  a  past  day.  The  Calvary  Presby- 
terian Church,  corner  of  Clay  and  Ninth  Streets,  ia 
new,  modern,  built  of  wood,  and  within  is  a  charm- 
ing house  of  worship,  complete  in  its  equipments, 
and  a  most  inviting  placa  for  quiet  communion 
with  the  Divine  Father.  In  the  faithful  preaching 
of  the  gospel  in  Portland,  no  other  denomination 
excels  the  Baptists.  Zealous  and  tireless,  they  are 
ever  about  their  Father's  business.  The  Methodists 
are  numerically  strong,  and  have  a  firm  foot-hold 
in  the  community. 

Should  the  reader  ever  visit  Portland,  one  of  the 
first  objects  which  will  arrest  his  attention  is  the 
massive  stone  foundation  of  an  intended  hotel  oc- 
cupying the  entire  block  immediately  west  of  the 
post-office.  The  walls  abut  the  sidewalk  on  four 
streets,  and  hence  are  two  hundred  feet  square. 
They  rise  above  the  pavement  a  full  half  story,  and 
penetrate  the  ground  sufficiently  for  a  deep,  light 
basement.  Below  the  surface  they  are  of  heavy 
brick  work;  above  it,  of  hammered  blue  limestone. 
Deep  recesses  form  spacious  courts  on  both  the 
eastern  and  western  sides.  The  window  embra- 
sures and  the  broad  arched  doorways,  welcome  the 
storms  and  dust.  Both  courts  and  the  basement 
are  strewn  with  boards,  boxes,  barrels,  empty  kegs, 
and  heavy  blocks  of  stone.  Through  the  arches, 
of  moonlight  night?,  the  moonbeams  play  in  ghostly 


i'  il 


i» 


4is 


:..i*i 


306 


OREGON. 


i? 


MM' 


m 


■I  i 


i     ;■ 


manner,  and  of  dark  nights  solitary  pedestrians 
feel  more  comfortable  on  the  other  side  of  the 
street.  Upon  this  plain,  staunch  foundation  have 
been  expended,  so  the  people  say,  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  dollars.  It  was  expected  the  structure 
would  cost  when  completed  one  and  a  half  millions. 
Nowhere  upon  the  structure  appears  its  name,  but 
the  citizens  have  christened  it  "Villard's  Ruin," 
for  one  step  it  was, toward  the  great  financial  failure 
of  Mr.  Henry  Villard,  While  pushing  the  con- 
struction of  the  Northern  Pacific  Road,  the  too  san- 
guine man  was  also  busy  laying  these  walls,  ex- 
pecting that  upon  the  completion  of  the  great 
thoroughfare  there  Avould  flow  into  Portland  from 
the  East  a  tide  of  travel  much  too  vast  for  its  then 
limited  hotel  accommodations.  He  finished  the 
railway.  The  hotel  the  tooth  of  Time  is  at  work 
upon,  finisiiing  it  downward.  One  thinks  of  the 
spirit  and  high  hopes  with  which  that  gentleman 
urged  forward  his  herculean  task,  and  of  the  sudden 
immense  loss  and  disappointment  himself  and  many 
others  sustained  in  the  collapse  of  his  scheme,  with 
feelings  of  regret.  Just  how  much  of  that  quick 
dashing  of  hopes  was  "due  to  causes  which  never 
have,  and  never  will,  see  the  light,"  some  living 
probably  know.  It  is  rumored  that  the  Portland 
authorities  meditate  buying  the  "  ruin  "  and  erecting 
upon  it  a  fine  city  hall.     That  will  do. 

Advancement  in  manufactures  is  a  subject  now 


^ 


PORTLAND  ON  THE  WILLAMETTE. 


307 


?r 


'S 


uppermost  in  the  minds  of  capitalists  in  this  part  of 
the  North-west.  Indeed,  in  this  direction  no  little 
progress  has  already  been  made.  Among  other 
branches  in  this  city,  interest  attaches  to  the  work 
of  the  "  Cleveland  Mixed  Paint  Manufacturing 
Company,"  on  account  of  the  peculiar  Oregon  re- 
sources which  it  brings  to  light.  The  mountain 
ranges  of  Oregon  and  Washington — notably  the 
Cascade  Range — abound  in  ochres,  oxides,  siennas, 
and  paint  ores.  In  Southern  Oregon  chrome  ores 
are  very  prevalent.  Assays  of  these  compounds 
show  that  they  contain  about  sixty  per  cent  of  acid, 
which,  when  set  free,  forms  valuable  chromes.  Out 
of  them  the  above  company  manufactures  a  full  line 
of  putties,  mixed  paints,  and  paste  colors,  the 
Pacific  North-west,  alone,  affording  a  suflicient  mar- 
ket for  its  products.  The  company  gets  its  name 
from  the  fact  that  at  Cleveland,  Ohio,  were  first 
produced  paints  mixed  ready  for  use. 

Other  lines  of  manufacture  bring  out  the  value 
of  Oregon  woods.  A  firm  on  Front  Street  makes 
from  them  every  variety  of  hollow  wooden-ware, 
besides  step-ladders,  wash-boards,  chess-boards,  net- 
floats,  and  the  like.  The  red  cedar  is  of  special 
utility,  the  cork-like  substance  between  the  grain 
rendering  it  invaluable  for  articles  intended  to  hold 
water,  as  wash-tubs,  pails,  kegs,  and  barrels.  Shin- 
gles cut  from  it  are  ever  in  demand,  since  they 
neither  split  nor  warp.     The  millions  of  net-floats 


I 


•  1 ,11 


I  i 


i. 


P;    !!, 


1  ■  tn 


ife^' : 


308 


OREGON. 


used  in  the  salmon  industry  are  formed  from  it,  and 
every  school-boy  knows  its  value  for  fence-posts. 
Placed  beside  Eastern  goods  of  the  same  class,  but 
made  of  different  wood,  the  Oregon  wares  are  sure 
of  the  preference.  The  maple  of  the  State  is  in 
high  favor  for  cabinet  work,  and  also  for  seats  and 
desks  in  churches  and  schools  ;  indeed,  it  is  worked 
in  freely  with  ash  and  alder  for  all  hardwood  pur- 
poses. For  all  articles  requiring  soft  woods,  spruce, 
cedar,  and  the  firs  are  well  adapted. 

Front  Street,  skirting  the  river,  with  First  and 
Second  Streets,  are  mainly  the  business  thorough- 
fares. They  are  paved  with  a  limestone  much 
resembling  that  quarried  at  Marblehead,  on  Lake 
Erie.  Elsewhere  throughout  the  city,  the  avenues 
are  treated  to  a  covering  of  crushed  stone,  which  in 
time  works  down  to  a  hard,  smooth  surface.  The 
sidewalks  are  chiefly  of  narrow  boards  laid  cross- 
wise. A  durable  concrete  is,  however,  coming  into 
favor  for  this  purpose,  and  is  sure  to  displace  the 
boards.     Wholesale  houses,  with  insurance  and  rail- 

* 

way  offices,  occupy  Front  Street  quite  exclusively. 
The  buildings  are  fine,  being  generally  of  brick  or 
stone,  and  three  or  four  stories  in  height.  On  other 
streets  there  are  many  spacious  and  beautiful  shops 
and  stores. 


XXXIV. 
She  Salmon  Industi^y  op  itHs 

(90LUMBIA. 


^¥' 


i 


LAST  Thursday  being  the  anniversary  of  the  Na- 
tion's birthday,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
how  the  citizens  of  Portland  celebrate  it.  The 
programme  varied  little  from  that  adopted  by  the 
country  generally  for  the  last  half  century.  There 
was  the  same  profuse  display  of  th6  national  colors, 
the  same  civic  procession,  and  the  usual  amount  of 
soaring  eloquence,  accompanied  by  the  explosion  of 
masses  of  gunpowder.  Select  companies  picnicked 
at  water-falls.  Small  parties  rode  away  to  the  hill- 
tops for  the  day.  The  friends  of  Woman's  Suffrage 
hied  themselves  to  Vancouver  to  celebrate  their 
recent  victory  for  the  ballot  in  Washington  Ter- 
ritory. In  short,  the  day  was  filled  with  racket, 
feasting,  drinking,  fatigue,  and  speech-making,  and 
no  doubt  when  the  night  drew  on  there  was  gen- 
eral rejoicing  over  the  fact  that  the  "Glorious 
Fourth"  asserts  its  claim  but  once  a  year.  Far 
from  home  and  among  strangers,  my  enthusiasm  did 
not  mount  very  high,  but  I  endeavored  to  feel 
patriotic,  and  thankfid  (hat  my  native  land  em- 
braces such  States  as  Ohio  and  Oregon. 

The  next  Tuesday  morning  at  the  early  hour  of 


w' 


27 


;W9 


iTT-Jii   -■tir*i-M«i— 


310 


OREGON. 


half-^jast  five  I  might  have  been  seen  hastening 
toward  the  hinding  of  tlie  Oregon  Railway  and 
Navigation  Company's  steamer  S.  G.  Reed,  of  the 
Portland  and  Astoria  line.  My  destination  was  the 
latter  city,  and  my  })urpose  the  studying  the  salmon 
industry  of  the  (/olumbia,  Astoria  being  its  head- 
quarters. On  board,  bound  to  the  same  point,  I 
found  a  strong  delegation  of  wide-awake  Oregon 
teachers  and  friends  of  education,  mostly  delegates 
to  the  State  Teacher's  Institute,  that  evening  to  con- 
vene in  Mr.  Astor's  town. 

In  the  fullness  of  steamboat  time — that  is,  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon— the  Reed  drew  up  to  her 
dock,  and  cast  oif  her  lines  for  an  all-night  stay 
where  all  the  "Astors"  are  salmon-colored.  Forth- 
with the  pedagogical  passengers  scattered  to  the 
hotels  and  hospitable  homes  of  the  city,  while  I, 
equipped  with  umbrella,  pencil,  and  note-book, 
stepped  ashore,  and  soon  met  a  most  kindly  re- 
ception at  the  cottage  of  Mr.  Curtis  Trenchard,  the 
highly  esteemed  clerk  of  Clatsop  County,  of  which 
Astoria  is  the  legal  center.  Thence,  soon,  my  time 
being  of  much  value,  I  hastened  to  the  salmon- 
canning  establishment  of  Mr.  William  Hume,  the 
pioneer  of  the  industry  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  I 
found  the  gentleman  at  his  post,  and  presenting  my 
credentials,  informed  him  I  had  come  for  a  chapter 
of  details  pertaining  to  his  pursuit,  including  a 
brief  sketch  of  its  history. 


a 


SALMON  INDUSTRY. 


311 


E,eceiving  me  courteously,  Mr.  Hume  began  his 
story  by  saying  that  he  had  spent  his  life  among 
the  salmon,  having  fished  for  them  with  his  father 
in  the  Kennebec  River,  in  Maine,  when  but  a  lad 
ten  years  of  age;  and  that  he  himself  had  intro- 
duced the  business  on  this  western  coast,  having 
established  the  first  canneries  on  both  the  Sacra- 
mento and  Columbia  rivers.  At  the  age  of  twenty- 
two,  allured  by  the  prospect  of  richer  fishing  in  the 
streams  of  the  Pacific,  he  forsook  the  banks  of  the 
Kennebec,  and  began  the  long  journey  across  the 
continent,  arriving  upon  the  Sacramento  in  1853. 
In  1864  he  introduced  in  the  city  of  Sacramento — 
then  an  incipient  village — the  then  new  pursuit  of 
canning  his  favorite  fish,  himself,  his  brother^  George 
W.  Hume,  now  resident  of  Oakland,  California,  and 
a  Mr.  A.  S.  Hapgood,  also  a  New  Englander,  and 
familiar  with  the  mode  of  canning  oysters  and 
lobsters  on  the  Atlantic  sea-board,  forming  a  partner- 
ship for  the  purpose.  As  has  been  true  in  other 
new  ventures  in  business,  the  firm  was  obliged  to 
urge  its  goods  upon  a  suspicious  market.  "  Canned 
salmon"  was  an  unknown  article  of  food,  and  the 
Sacramento  housekeepers  were  afraid  of  it. 

"In  order  to  introduce  my  goods,"  said  Mr. 
Hume,  "  I  used  to  fill  a  basket  as  large  as  I  could 
carry,  with  the  cans,  take  it  on  my  arm,  and  start 
out  among  the  families  of  my  acquaintance,  and, 
presenting  to  each  a  can  of  the  fish,  would  carefully 


312 


OREGON. 


mi 

:i-   r 


♦ ' 


f"   *  (    r 


I' I 


ill 


sa  ff 


ii   .. 


"3:1 


!l      '    I     -ii! 


i 


explain  with  what  niceness  It  was  put  up,  and  in- 
vite them  to  try  it.  Thus,  for  a  time,  I  gave  away 
the  product.  That  was  twenty  years  ago.  Now 
canned  salmon  can  be  obtained  in  any  market  of 
the  world.  But  that  was  the  origin  of  the  great 
industry." 

Up  to  about  this  time  the  shipping  of  fresh 
salmon  in  express  wagons  to  the  gold-mines  in  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  State  had  made  a  lucrative  busi- 
ness for  Mr.  Hume.  The  miners  were  a  class  of 
men  who  never  denied  themselves  an  article  of  food 
they  desired,  however  extravagant  the  price.  Se- 
cured easily  and  rapidly  in  most  instances,  their 
gold-dust  and  nuggets  vanished  like  the  wind  when 
appetite  was  tempted.  Hence,  round  sums  of  gold 
were  freely  laid  down  by  them  for  the  splendid 
pink  denizens  of  the  Sacramento.  San  Francisco 
also  furnished  a  good  market  for  the  fish  when 
fresh.  Thus  did  these  enterprising  Maine  men  drive 
a  thriving  business  in  this  line  alone. 

But  the  canned  salmon  grew  in  favor,  and  in 
time  so  flattering  became  the  prospect  for  a  market 
for  it,  that  Mr.  William  Hnme  began  to  sigh  for 
other  streams  to  angle  in.  Inclined,  like  John  Jacob 
Astor,  to  form  large  plans,  and  possessed,  also,  of  a 
degree  of  that  shrewd  German's  foresight  in  choos- 
ing fields  of  effort,  he  quietly  determined  to  make 
a  pilgrimage  to  the  Columbia  to  ascertain  if  it  did 
not  offer  greater  encouragement  for  his  special  pur- 


lin 111 


SA  LMON  IND  US  TR  Y. 


313 


suit  than  did  the  green  waters  of  the  Sacramento. 
Soon  after  this  decision,  "  of  which  he  said  notliing 
to  his  partners,"  he  seemed  to  find  himself  in  need 
of  a  short  vacation,  and  proposed  a  few  days'  travel 
northward  as  an  inviting  change.  In  due  time  he 
was  oiF  to  Astoria.  Here  a  few  visions  of  the 
beautiful  fish  crowding  "Chinook  Bay"  convinced 
him  that  the  Columbia  was  the  king  of  salmon 
streams.  In  it  he  saw  "  millions,"  both  of  fish  and 
money.  He  discovered,  also,  that  in  flavor  and 
quality  they  excelled  the  salmon  of  California, 
During  his  career  on  both  ocean  coasts,  Mr.  Huni'i 
had  made  the  acquaintance  of  men  from  almost 
every  known  salmon  haunt  of  the  world,  and  from 
them  had  gained  a  good  idea  of  their  extent  and 
value.  This  knowledge  enabled  him  to  form  a 
prophecy  very  favorable  to  the  Columbia.  These 
points  settled,  his  vacation  ended  as  suddenly  as  it 
began,  and  back  he  sped  to  acquaint  his  partners 
with  his  discovery.  It  was  soon  determined  that  a 
beginning  should  be  made  in  the  new  field,  and 
1868  found  the  brothers  actively  canning  salmon  on 
the  "  Great  River  of  the  West." 

Mr.  William  Hume  established  himself  at  Eagle 
Cliff,  an  advantageous  point  on  the  Washing- 
ton Territory  side,  several  hours  by  steam  above 
Astoria.  There  ever  since  his  home  has  been. 
Eagle  Cliff,  allow  us  to  say  in  parenthesis,  presents 
a  fine  bit  of  Columbia  scenery.     On  the  river  brink 


If* 


I 


;^j 


^f 


! 


314 


OREGON. 


1 

I 

f )  \         i  1  ■ 

1 

Us  ,         '         f  I 

1 

iin    ;   i: 

i 


u: 


'I?-!  I;     ' 


I  Mill 


II I  III 


' '  i 


M 


stands  a  spacious  cannery,  of  which  Mr.  Hume  is 
the  owner,  with  its  staunch  dock  for  steamers. 
Back  from  this,  some  rods,  on  an  uneven  phiteau,  is 
his  residence,  filled  with  sunshine  by  Mrs.  Hume, 
however  dark  the  day.  Beyond  the  cottage  and  its 
surrounding  of  green  trees  rises  a  perpendicular 
wall  of  basalt  several  hundred  feet  high.  Sweeping 
back  from  the  river  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle  it 
leaves  acreage  for  several  dwellings  and  the  buildings 
tributary  to  the  cannery.  The  spot  is  one  of  the 
most  notable  on  the  Lower  Columbia. 

Mr.  Hume  is  over  fifty  years  of  age,  is  of  me- 
dium height,  has  a  sturdy  figure,  dark  gray  hair, 
coal-black  eyes,  and  a  fresh  complexion.  Public 
statement  makes  him  wealthy.  He  is  attached  to 
the  beautiful  salmon,  and  says  he  has  never  taken 
one  for  mere  pleasure.  He  thinks  "  there  should 
be  a  law  limiting  salmon-fishing  to  five  days  of  the 
week,  during  the  season,  and  prohibiting  it  alto- 
gether on  Saturdays  and  Sundays,"  thus  lessening 
their  wanton  capture. 

Mr.  George  Hume,  whose  cannery  at  Astoria 
adjoins  that  of  his  brother  in  that  city,  retired  from 
active  business,  some  time  ago,  in  shattered  health. 
He  however  retains  a  heavy  interest  in  the  trade, 
both  here  and  on  the  Sacramento. 

In  former  years,  when  these  men  were  operating 
with  little  or  no  competition  in  the  trade,  a  single 
case  of  their  salmon,  containing  forty-eight  one- 


-r^ 


SALMON  IXDUSTRY. 


315 


pound  cans  caoli,  sold  for  .sixteen  dollars  in  pjold. 
Last  year  the  estimated  price  of  Columbia  Uiver 
salmon  was  $4.50  ])er  case.  The  annual  pack  in 
Mr.  Hume's  establishment,  for  the  past  five  years, 
has  ranged  from  twenty-six  to  thirty  thousand  cases. 
And  to-day  there  are  about  forty-five  firms  and 
single  parties  engaged  in  the  business  on  the 
Columbia,  twenty-two  of  which  operate  at  Astoria, 
and  are  located  along  the  miles  of  river-brink  in- 
cluded within  the  limits  of  the  historic  little  city, 
several  of  them  possessing  facilities  equaling,  if  not 
rivaling,  those  of  Mr.  Hume.  These  facits  give  an 
idea  of  the  immense  amount  of  the  valuable  fish 
aujiually  taken  from  this  river.  Above  Astoria 
there  are  probably  four  or  five  canneries,  including 
that  at  Eagle  Cliff.  One  or  two  firms  send  their 
entire  pack  abroMil,  marketing  no  goods  in  this 
country. 

Between  Astoria  and  the  mouth  of  the  Colum- 
bia, a  distance  of  fifteen  miles,  the  stream  expands 
into  "Chinook  Bay,"  with  an  average  breadth  of 
about  five  miles.  This  bay  is  pre-cgiinontly  salmon 
territory.  Here,  close  within  the  bar  especially, 
are  caught,  as  they  come  sailing  in  from  the  main, 
a  largo  proportion  of  the  handsome  fish.  They  are 
on  their  way  up  to  the  fresh-water  tributaries  of 
the  Columbia  where  their  spawning  takes  place. 
The  present  United  States  Fish  Commissioner  is 
reported  to  be  of  the  opinion  that  the  salmon,  once 


« 


^11 


Mr 


; 

1      ':      ■ 

J 

;      -i' 

! 

'i 

, 

■ft'  ' 

I 

■lii;'    ' 

h 

'  •;  1 

11 

'  r    ■    "  ■' 

1 

j  If 

1 

1 

i 

\ 

n   ■ 

■'  ;!■; 

1 

it' 

if,:. 

3 

t  ■ 

niG 


OREOON. 


uscemleil  to  the  fre-sli  water  streiims,  never  returns. 
It  journeys  onward  as  long  as  strength  endures, 
and  there  is  water  in  whieh  to  float.  Then  it  de- 
posits its  spawn   and   dies.     But  in  due  time  their 


Sfilmon-Flshing. 

minnows,  led  by  instinet,  travel  down  to  a  home  in 
the  salt  water. 

The  "  Chino/)k  salmon  "  is  the  salmon  jpar  excel- 
lence, of  the  Cohimbia,  and  forms  the  prime  brand 
of  every  prominent  firm.  Chinook  Bay  is  the  the- 
ater, also,  on  which  are  lost  the  lives  of  scores  of 
the  salmon-fishers.  Great  difference  of  opinion 
exists  as  to  the  number  annually  drowned.  Mr. 
Hume  puts  it  at  fifty  or  more,  while  Mr.  M.  J. 
Kinney,  of  the  Astoria  Packing  Company,  places  it 


SALMON  LWUHTRV. 


817 


much  below  tliis.  Mr.  Tallimt,  <.f  the  Cutting 
Packing  Company,  from  whom  n»any  of  the  fact^ 
given  in  this  chaj)ter  were  obtained,  states  that, 
(luring  a  period  of  nine  years  in  the  business,  his 
lirm  has  lost  but  one  man,  and  not  a  single  boat. 
Habits  of  drinking  and  inexperience  in  handling 
the  boats  are  the  leading  causes  of  drowning.  If, 
v.ith  a  swift  river-current  running  to  sea,  and 
gigantic  breakers  rolling  inward,  the  men  approach 
too  near  the  bar  when  in  a  state  of  intoxication, 
their  doom  is  almost  certain.  The  surf  sweeps  them 
out  into  the  great  deep. 

As  a  class,  the  salmon-fishers  are  a  low  order 
of  men.  They  represent  every  nation  on  the  globe. 
Having  neither  fixed  abode  nor  regular  occupation, 
they  migrate  from  place  to  place  as  work  offers,  or 
as  impulse  or  hunger  drives.  The  worthiest  among 
them  are  the  Fins,  Swedes,  Russians,  and  Nor- 
wegians. Fishers  by  profession  and  choice,  and  not 
from  necessity,  they  have  their  families  in  or  near 
Astoria,  send  tlieir  children  to  the  public  schools, 
own  real  estate  in  the  vicinity,  and  make  worthy 
citizens.  On  the  contrary,  the  Italians  and  Por- 
tuguese are  the  rovers,  the  'longshore-men  of  the 
calling.  Since  they  were  born  they  have  haunted 
some  water's  edge.  Not  a  picayune  have  they,  in- 
vested in  boats,  or  nets,  or  home.  Not  theirs  is 
the  loss,  if  boats  or  nets  are  lost. 

The  packers  consider  it  money  iii  their  pockets 


;  f '? 


ir 


1  ,i 


i!^ 


;m'M 


£■ 


t     ! 


!!iJ     i 


^mumm 


t^ :; 


(I  • 


318 


OREO  ON. 


if  the  fisliermen  own  the  nets  they  use,  as  numbers 
of  the  better  class  do,  having  paid  the  firms  for  them 
in  fish.  Stealing  them  then  ceases  to  be  profitable, 
and  destroying  them  becomes  expensive. 

The  salmon  fleet  of  the  Columbia  numbers  be- 
tween fifteen  iiundred  and  two  thousand  boats,  with 
two  men  for  each  boat;  thus  are  three  thousand 
men  employed  in  good  seasons. 

A  salmon  net  is  an  article  of  no  trifling  interest. 
Two  hundred  pounds  of  twine  will  construct  a  net 
forty-five  meshes  deep,  each  mesh  being  nine  inches 
square.  The  best  material  made  in  this  country  for 
the  purpose  is  a  cord  called  "  Barbour's  twine," 
manufactured  at  Paterson,  New  Jersey.  Such  is 
the  strength  of  the  material  that  a  single  thread 
will  sustain  a  strain  of  one  hundred  and  seventy-six 
pounds.  The  cord  is  made  of  Irish  flax,  brought 
over  in  an  undressed  state,  and  therefore  free  of 
duty.  Imported  in  the  form  of  twine  the  impost 
would  be  forty  per  cent.  The  thread  is  composed 
of  twelve  subordinate  filaments,  and  must  be  exceed- 
ingly flexible,  else  the  Sensitive  salmon  will  not 
enter  the  net.  It  is  therefore  very  slack  twisted, 
but  a  single  turn  of  the  wheel  being  given  to  an 
inch  of  the  cord.  During  the  season  a  boiling 
solution  of  tan  is  poured  over  the  nets  every  two 
weeks.  This  both  cleanses  them  and  imparts  a 
color,  which,  in  the  daytime,  prevents  the  cautious 
iish  from  perceiving  the  snare  set  for  its  capture. 


L  si 


SALMON  INDUSTRY. 


310 


In  most,  if  not  all  the  canneries  on  the  Colum- 
bia, Chinese,  under  the  direction  of  an  American 
supei'intendent,  are  employed  to  do  the  work.  The 
proceeding  embraces  not  less  than  twelve  or  fifteen 
different  steps,  and  at  some  stages  requires  great 
skill  and  celerity.  To  such  labors  the  lithe  Celes- 
tial is  well  adapted.  He  is  attentive,  prompt,  exact, 
faithful,  and  silent.  Garrulous  ar  a  parrot  usually 
among  his  countrymen,  he  becomes  speechless  when 
set  to  precise  tasks,  especially  when  his  wages  are 
proportioned  to  the  amount  of  work  he  does.  As 
witnessed  in  the  house  of  the  Cutting  Packing 
Company  yesterday,  the  process  of  canning  exceeded 
in  rapidity  any  thing  I  had  ever  seen  outside  of  large 
brush-making  establishments  in  the  East.  All  the 
operatidus  were  in  progress  in  one  vast  room,  from 
the  rocoiving  the  fish  from  the  boats  just  in  with 
their  uight  catch,  to  the  removing  the  cans  full  of 
CM«>k''d  salmon  from  their  cooling  bath  to  the  pack- 
ing-room. 

Perfect  cooking  is  the  all-im.portant  step  in  the 
canning  of  salmon.  Failure  in  this  particular  in- 
sures fermentation  av.d  total  loss  of  the  goods.  The 
process  is  conducted  in  about  the  following  manner: 
A  tea-spoonful  of  salt  is  first  dropped  into  the  can. 
Then  a  strip  of  salmon,  in  width  equal  to  the  height 
of  the  can.  is  cut  crosswise  of  the  fish,  rolled  up  and 
placed  endwise  in  the  caki,  in  a  raw  state.  The  cans 
are  then  covered,  crimped,  soldered,  and  boiled  in 


I  I 


I 


I 


kMH 


f: 


si 


.;?• 


320 


OREGON. 


large  irou  tanks,  one  hour,  by  steam  heat.  From 
this  they  are  removed,  and  placed  for  another  hour 
in  a  vast  cylindrical  retort,  kept  steadily  heated  to 
a  temperature  of  133°.  This  step  cooks  the  bones, 
an  absolute  necessity  for  the  preservation  of  the 
food.  Taken  from  the  retorts,  the  cans  are  c(  oled 
off,  cleansed  of  oil,  lacquered,  labeled,  packed,  tv  ry 
act  in  the  j^ocess  being  intensely  interesting. 

In  most  establishments  scrupulous  cleanliness 
marks  every  advance  in  the  work.  Mr.  Hume 
abhors  dirt  as  nature  does  a  vacuum.  Every  imple- 
ment, tank,  and  table  used,  as  well  as  the  floors  and 
the  hands  of  the  Chinamen,  must  many  times  a  day 
test  the  efficacy  of  cold  water.  So  extreme  are  his  no- 
tions, that  even  the  new  cans  are  thoroughly  washed 
and  wiped  before  they  are  used.  Yet,  if  such  a  thing 
be  possible,  Mr.  Hume  is  surpassed  in  this  virtue  by 
Mr.  Kinney,  of  the  Astoria  Company.  In  this 
house  not  even  the  odor  of  fish  could  be  detected  at 
the  hour  of  my  unexpected  call  yesterday  morning. 
Therefore,  "searching  for  dirt"  in  goods  bearing 
the  brand  of  either  of  these  establishments  will  be 
labor  thrown  away  by  the  housewives. 

The  salmon  season  begins  with  April  and  closes 
with  the  month  of  July.  At  its  commencement  the 
business  in  some  canneries  is  let  out  in  departments 
by  contract  to  experienced  and  resj:.;iii.«i.ble  China- 
men. These  engage  their  own.  hel'^Li  ;,  ray  them 
by  the    piece,  and   drive   thet  i  as   with  the    whip. 


SA LMON  IND  VSTR  Y. 


321 


Each  subordinate  supervises  his  squad  of  men, 
works  himself  like  a  Trojan,  and  is  held  respon- 
sible for  faultless  results.  Twelve  firms  on  the 
Columbia  are  this  year  conducting  their  business  on 
this  plan. 

There  were  taken  out  of  this  stream  last  year 
six  hundred  and  twentv  thousand  cases  of  salmon, 
of  forty-eight  cans  each.  This  season  complaints 
of  a  light  run  are  general.  Consequently  the  mar- 
kets will  be  lightly  stocked.  And  one  result  of 
this  state  of  things,  which  will  by  no  means  be  un- 
welcome to  the  packers,  will  be  an  increase  in  the 
price  of  the  valuable  food  next  year. 


i  ) 


Hi 


XXXV. 

Some  op  Ratui^b's  CQastbi^pibgbs  in 

iliHB   ^ASGADB   F{ANG3. 


EARLY  in  the  morning,  some  two  months  ago, 
I  entered  a  coach  of  the  South  Pacific  Coast 
Railway,  in  the  city  of,  the  Holy  Cross,  California, 
bound  to  San  Francisco.  Barely  were  the  few 
passengers  seated,  when,  as  an  introduction  to  the 
trip,  off  darted  the  train  into  one  of  the  dark  tun- 
nels by  which  that  road  pierces  the  Santa  Cruz 
Mountains.  Emerging  from  that,  there  followed 
three  hours  ride  amid  scenery  which  silenced  every 
tongue,  J  nd  lifted  our  thoughts  to  the  Almighty 
Mountain-builder.  As  we  climbed  toward  the  sum- 
mit of  the  chain,  there  reached  our  ears,  from  the 
deep  gorges  on  either  side,  just  enough  of  the  buz- 
zing of  saw-mills,  of  the  gurgle  of  running  water,  to 
relieve  the  oppressive  stillness.  Once  or  twice  the 
form  of  a  woman  or  of  a  little  child,  in  the  doorway 
of  a  lumberman's  cabin  along  the  way,  spoke  mutely 
of  the  joys  of  home.  Upward  we  climbed,  now  dash- 
ing across  streams  talking  merrily  far  below  us; 
now  spinning  along  between  high  mountains  clothed 
with  tall  firs.  Finally,  the  summit  gained,  down- 
ward we  flew  over  a  zigzag  track,  and  soon  swept 

out  into  the  lovely  valley  of  Santa  Clara. 
322 


IN  THE  CASCADE  RANGE. 


323 


The  previous  week  I  had  spent  a  day  among  the 
thousand  cones  of  the  Second  Coast  Range,  for 
hours  held  enchained  by  the  buildings,  telescopes, 
and  other  wonders  of  Mount  Hamilton.  A  few 
months   preceding,  I    had   crossed   the   Tehatchapi 


A  Home  in  the  Mountains. 

Chain,  famous  for  its  railroad  loops,  and  there,  for 
the  first  time  in  my  life,  had  witnessed  that  beauti- 
ful sight,  a  snow-storm,  robing  in  white,  elevations 
towering  hundreds  of  feet  above  my  head,  but 
wasting  not  a  flake  upon  the  mad  train  on  which  1 
sped  through  the  sublime  scenery.  A  little  prior 
to  this,  I  iiad  made  my  way,  for  sixteen  miles,  into 
a  wild  caflon  of  the  Santiago  Mountains,  half  the 


i 


ij 


V.  i 


'1  ;  'it:''! 


-iv 


M 


nr^ 


r  '•■ 


'H'    K 


324 


OREGON. 


>*r 


journey  being  performed  after  sunset.  Beside  me, 
in  the  light  wagon,  rode  a  cultured  daughter  of  an 
old  California  family.  Our  goal  was  her  mountain 
home.  Hours  before  we  reached  the  spot,  darkness 
settled  down  upon  the  crooked  road.  Only  the 
^mrses  could  see.  Now  we  dashed  across  a  stony 
creek.  Now  the  branches  of  the  trees  switched  our 
faces  Savage  dogs  bayed  at  us  from  the  yards  of 
the  two  or  three  cottages  by  the  way.  At  last  a 
bright  light  beamed  through  the  gloom.  One  more 
turn  in  the  road.  Another  crossing  of  the  creek. 
Then  a  young  Mexican  stepped  out  from  among  the 
trees  to  take  charge  of  the  team.  In  a  cooking- 
stove,  under  a  spreading  oak  near  by,  glowed  a  hot 
fire,  a  beacon  for  Santiago  owls  and  night-bugs.  On 
one  griddle  stood  a  tea-kettle,  singing  a  mountain 
lay.  Soon  we  were  taking  tea,  before  the  open  fire 
in  the  little  sitting-room.  Then  followed  tales  of 
early  days  in  California — then  sound  sleep,  io- 
day,  twelve  hundred  miles  north  of  that  home  in 
the  cafton,  I  am  sailing  on  the  quiet  Columbia, 
amid  the  wonders  of  the  Cascade  Range,  as  pleased 
with  the  grand  sights,  as  if  I  had  never  before 
beheld  the  like. 

\Ve  left  Portland  this  morning  at  seven,  on  the 
steamer  Dixie  Thompson.  An  hour  brought  us  down 
the  Willamette  to  its  jiniction  with  the  great  river. 
At  that  spot  lay  a  scene  lovely  as  the  morning  itself. 
Standing  well  above  the  water  in  front  of  us  were 


IN  THE  CASCADE  RANGE. 


325 


two  small  islands,  fringed  to  their  margin  with  al- 
ders, willows,  and  young  cottonwood.  Beyond  them 
gleamed  the  Columbia,  over  a  mile  wide  at  that 
point.  On  our  right,  gliding  up  a  narrow  bayou, 
was  a  canoe,  propelled  by  two  of  Oregon's  nut- 
brown  sons.  Both  banks  of  the  Willamette  talked 
outright  in  their  bright  green.  Upon  all  fell  a 
brilliant  sunlight.  Over  all  arched  a  cloudless 
sky.  Ere  we  had  half  taken  in  the  picture,  the 
Thompson  turned  a  V-shaped  point  of  land,  swept 
out  into  the  Columbia,  and  headed  eastward. 

Six  miles  above  us,  now,  on  the  Washington 
side,  rose  the  spires  of  Vancouver,  a  pleasant  little 
town  of  about  a  thousand  people,  and  the  supply 
depot  for  the  Military  Department  of  the  Columbia. 
It  contains  an  arsenal,  barracks  for  troops,  and 
residences  for  officers.  The  place  is  noted  for  its 
inviting  drives  and  handsome  location,  the  latter 
being  a  gentle  grade  extending  perhaps  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  back  from  the  river,  and  crowned  with  fine 
dwelJIings.  From  its  crest  may  be  obtained  a  grand 
view  of  the  Columbia  and  of  the  Oregon  country  be- 
yond. In  1853  the  honored  soldier  who  now  sleeps 
quietly  in  Riverside  Park  was  in  command  at  this 
fort.  As  I  write,  one  tells  me  that  during  that  year  he 
was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  captain  and  transferred 
to  Fort  Humboldt,  in  Northern  California.  At 
dinner-table,  on  the  steamer,  his  eminent  services 

and  painful  illness  were  the  theme  of  conversation. 

28 


II 


i 


ll 


Rooster  Rock  and  The  Needles. 


IN  THE  CASCADE  RANGE. 


327 


The  captain  had  known  him  as  Lieutenant  Grant, 
if  I  remember  correctly. 

Leaving  Vancouver,  the  Thompson  soon  ap- 
proached the  point  where  the  river  emerges  from 
its  grand  gorge  in  the  Cascade  Range,  and  before 
noon  we  had  stupendous  scenery  on  either  side, 
nearly  every  mile  contributing  some  object  of 
special  interest. 

"  Do  you  see  that  lofty  rock  rising  out  of  the 
water,  just  ahead,  on  the  Oregon  side?"  asked  the 
purser,  a  young  man  from  Chicago,  as  we  turned 
away  from  Vancouver. 

Yes,"  answered  the  parties  addressed — a  lady 
and  gentlemen  from  New  Haven,  Connecticut,  on 
their  way  to  Yellowstone  Park,  and  but  recently 
from  the  "  Grand  Ciiflon  of  the  Colorado." 

"  Well,  that  is  Rooster  Rock,  one  of  the  mar- 
vels of  the  Columbia.  We  shall  pass  it  close  on 
our  left." 

The  "  marvel  "  is  a  column  of  dark  basalt,  of  ir- 
regular conical  shape,  resting  on  the  bed  of  the  river 
sixty  feet  below  the  surface,  and  rising  probably  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  surging  water. 
The  powerful  current  must  have  spent  ages  in  hewing 
the  staunch  shaft  into  its  present  shape.  "  Looks 
it  like  a  rooster?"  No.  It  has  not  the  slightest 
resemblance  to  one,  but  the  top  offers  an  admirable 
place  from  which  to  crow,  could  Mr.  Gall  us  but 
reach  it.     Near  by  is  another  mass  of  rock,  which 


i      . 


I" 


328 


Cape  Horn,  Columbia  River. 


IN  THE  CASCADE  RANGE. 


329 


answers  very  well  for  a  hen,  and  scattered  about  are 
smaller  ones,  very  suitable  for  chickens;  thus  h 
the  spot  supplied  with  a  whole  family  of  the  do- 
mestic fowl. 

Passing  over  now  to  the  Washington  side,  the 
steamer  soon  rounded  "  Cape  Horn,"  a  splendid 
aggregation  of  columnar  basalt,  rising  almost  perpen- 
dicularly from  the  water  to  a  height  of  eight  hun- 
dred or  a  thousand  feet,  and  "  revealing  the  succes- 
sive overflows  of  lava  by  which  the  peaks  of  the 
Cascades  were  built  up  during  the  Miocene  period." 
From  the  Cape  onward,  the  mighty  stream  wound 
this  way  and  that,  until  we  had  passed  the  Cascades, 
one  hundred  and  sixty-five  miles  from  its  mouth. 
On  either  side  towered  mountains  with  summits 
from  three  to  five  thousand  feet  above  us,  in  many 
instances  showing  almost  sheer  perpendicular  sides. 
A  mere  glance  at  them  made  one  dizzy.  Words  can 
convey  no  idea  of  the  splendid  succession  of  cliffs, 
cones,  columns,  water-falls,  and  bits  'i  f  veet  vil- 
ley  scenery,  visible  from  the  deck  of  the  stear.^  •• — 
by  far  the  most  satisfactory  mode  of  seeing  these 
wonders  of  the  Columbia.  The  Oregon  Railway 
and  Navigation  Company's  road  from  Portland  to 
Walla  Walla,  in  South-eastern  Washington,  runs  up 
the  Oregon  side  of  the  river  from  near  Rooster 
Rock  to  Dalles  City,  above  the  Cascades,  and  from 
the  car-windows  aifords  many  fine  views  of  the 
scenery;  still,  the  water  route  is  infinitely  preferable. 


it. 


t: 


""m 


13  'i 


:l, 


330 


GREG  ON. 


Yet  hotter  than  cither  is  hotli.  Reader,  yon  may 
some  (lay  come  to  the  coast.  Make  the  gorge  of 
the  C<thimhia  yours  forever,  hy  seeing  it  from  car- 
seat  and  from  steamer's  deck,  as  the  writer  did. 

Dinner  was  in  progress  when  the  purser  an- 
nounced :  "  We  are  passing  tlie  Multiiomaij  Fall." 
Instantly  we  were  outside.  Among  the  Oregon 
peaks,  close  against  the  dark  rocks,  and  pouring 
from  a  perilous  height,  appeared  a  broad  rihhon  of 
foam,  but  so  distant  that  much  of  its  beauty  \\v 
lf)st.  However,  upon  returning  by  cars  two  di 
later  I  had  the  pleasure  of  standing  so  near  the 
beautiful  object  that  the  spray  therefrom  might  have 
sprinkled  my  face.  The  train  halted  a  few  rods  in 
front  of  it,  and  twenty  minutes  wen;  aUowed  for  a 
climb  up  the  rough  path  leading  to  the  wonder. 
The  total  length  of  the  fall  is  not  quite  nine  hundred 
feet.  From  the  top  it  pours  straight  down  an  un- 
broken descent  of  eigi;t  hundred  feet  into  a  tiny 
basin,  which  its  ceaseless  action  for  centuries  has 
scooped  out  of  the  solid  rock.  Fi-om  the  basin  it 
makes  another  plunge  of  nearly  one  hundred  feet. 
Before  reaching  the  receptacle,  the  upper  fall  becomes 
a  column  of  feathery  foam,  often  swayed  by  the 
wind,  and  glorified  by  the  sun.  It  rivets  your  gaze. 
It  talks  to  you.  But  you  can  't  talk  back.  When 
tlu!  engineer  rings  his  bell  you  wish — only  for  a 
moment — that  locomotives  had  not  been  invented. 

Farther  up  the  stream,  on  the  Oregon  side,  turn- 


rv  THE  CASCADE  RAXGE. 


3.'U 


1 


Multnomah  Fall,  Oregon. 

bles  the  Oneonta    Fall,  scarcely  leys  beautiful,  not 
accessible,  but  visible  fVoni   the  boats.     Twice  in  a 


.r 


i^iljr     ^^» 


332 


OREGON. 


i     1; 


descent  of  "about  a  thousand  feet"  is  its  flow 
broken  by  jutting  rocks.  Away  back  in  cramped 
cafions  are  caught,  from  the  steamer's  deck,  bright 
views  of  other  falls,  also  rolling  down  from  dizzy 
altitudes. 

Arriving  at  the  Lower  Cascade,  the  Thompson 
drew  up  to  a  diminutive  station-house  on  the  Wash- 
ington bank.  Here  the  passengers  were  transferred 
to  a  queer  little  railway  car,  attached  to  a  pocket 
platform  car  for  freight  and  baggage,  with  a  Lilli- 
putian engine  in  front  of  both.  No  sooner  were 
we  seated  than  away  darted  the  whole  concern, 
twisting  in  and  out  among  rocks  and  trees,  to  an- 
other station  above  the  Upper  Cascade,  a  distance 
of  six  miles.  Here,  leaving  the  infant  train,  we 
re-embarked  on  a  new,  clean,  nicely  furnished  little 
steamer  for  Dalles  City,  forty-one  miles  above. 

In  the  "Cascades"  we  were  disappointed.  Na- 
ture has  there  "photographed  her  work  down  "  until 
it  takes  an  exceedingly  lively  imagination  to  pre- 
ceive  cascades  at  all.  There  is  far  too  little  tumble 
and  foam  of  water.  Too  few  ragged  rocks  are 
thrown  about,  and  deeply  notched  ledges  came  near 
being  forgotten.  Still  she  has  put  things  in  such 
confusion  that  it  will  consume  millions  of  money 
from  the  United  States  Treasury  to  repair  the  mis- 
chief. The  unobstructed  navigation  of  a  great 
water-way,  penetrating  the  heart  of  a  vast  country 
as  does  the  Columbia,  is  a  matter  of  exceeding  ira- 


IN  THE  CASCADE  RANGE. 


333 


portance  to  the  people.  The  Government  realizes 
this,  and  has  therefore  begun  at  the  Cascades  the 
eonstruction  of  a 
canal  with  locks, 
which,  when  fin- 
ished, will  enable 
steamers  to  pro- 
ceed directly  to 
Dalles  City.  Ru- 
mor savs  that  two 
millions  of  money 
and  seven  years  of 
labor  have  already 


"Bright  Views  oi  other  Fails." 
been  expended  upon  the  work,  and  yet  is  it  far  from 
completion.     Farmers  and  business  men  living  all 
over  the  "Inland  Empire"  are   impatient  for   the 


I   5,(fy 


fc-il'j  tfi 


hi 


29 


Iff^ 


'  i 

I : 


334 


OREGON. 


,i\ 


•I 


'li  • 


end,  realizig  that  cheaper  transportation  for  its 
products  will  draw  to  the  rich  region  both  capital 
and  enterprise. 

Some  miles  above  the  Cascades,  the  captain, 
coming  down  from  the  pilot-house,  said  to  us : 
"Just  around  that  point  we  are  approaching,  you 
will  obtain  the  finest  view  of  Mount  Hood  to  be 
had  on  the  Columbia."  So,  stepping  to  the  Oregon 
side  of  the  boat,  we  waited  the  opportune  moment. 
Now — twenty  miles  distant  stood  the  dead  volcano, 
full  in  view,  wrapped  in  immaculate  snow,  glistening 
like  burnished  silver  in  the  sunlight,  stretching 
above  all  the  stately  summits  around. 

"And  now,"  once  more  questioned  the  courteous 
captain,  "  do  you  see  that  lofty  hill,  just  here  on 
the  left?  Right  there  Bierstadt  sketched  his  great 
picture  of  Mount  Hood.  Ho  was  charmed  with  the 
view  of  the  old  follow  from  that  point.  But  step 
here.  Look  down  the  river.  Do  you  see?  That 
gives  you  the  finest  view  on  the  Columbia.  Every 
year  artists  come  up  here  to  sketch  that  scene. 

We  turned  to  see.  On  either  side  the  river,  for 
a  long  way,  the  grand  elevations  appeared  as  if 
dovetailed  together;  yet  by  their  configuration 
could  the  windings  of  the  vast  gorge  be  traced  for 
miles.  It  was  a  suggestive  scone,  in  perfect  repose, 
hut  full  of  might.  Manifi)ld  wore  its  linos  of  beauty. 
Other  than  the  most  skillful  brush  would  fail  to 
put  it  on  canvas.     In  that  neighborhood  the  Salmon 


o 


o 


o* 


W 


Mi) 


on/; 


OREGON. 


A. 
■  V 


)' 


'  is 


River  Hows  into  the  Ctilunihia,  on  the  Washington 
sitle.  A  glance  up  the  rift  it  has  made  in  the  ever- 
Jasting  hills,  shows  Mount  Adams's  white  head, 
thirty  miles  away. 

The  (;uptain,  very  desirous  that  we  should  see  all 
the  points  of  interest,  next  called  our  attention  to 
"  Memalose  Island,"  a  small  basalt  body,  in  view, 
on  the  left.  On  the  margin,  facing  us,  appeared  a 
modest  monument  of  white  marble.  It  marks  the 
resting-place  of  one  Victor  Trevett,  an  eccentric 
Oregon  pioneer,  who  left  the  shores  of  time  soinc 
two  years  ago,  in  San  Francisco.  Mr.  Trevett  had 
a  knowledge  of  Memalose  Island.  He  had  also  a 
lively  fear  lest  his  body  should  some  time  be  disin- 
terred, if  consigned  to  the  earth  in  any  of  the  cem- 
eteries of  San  Francisco ;  so  he  charged  his  rela- 
tives to  deposit  it  on  this  islet,  where,  he  believed, 
its  rest  would  remain  unbroken  until  the  end  of 
time.  They  obeyed  him,  and  here  he  lies,  far 
enough  from  "  that  bad  city  "  to  escape  any  dread- 
ful doom  that  may  overtake  it.  But  Mr.  Trevett 
sleeps  not  alone  here.  Long  before  a  pale-face 
propelled  a  canoe  on  the  Columbia,  the  Indians  of 
the  region  were  accustomed  to  bring  hither,  from 
long  distances  sometimes,  their  deceased  relatives, 
and  place  them  inside  small,  low  houses,  built  up 
loosely  of  poles.  Here  they  moldered  back  to  dust, 
the  wild  winds  whic^h  drive  down  the  gorge  hav- 
ing free  access  to  them,  and  in  time  scattering  that 


U  k  11 


!l 


i:'  I; 


IM 


t  '• 


,!       I 


»»'J"*,'.   ,^i^ 


ORIGOX. 


dust  upon  river  aiul  mountain.  One  house  filhid, 
tliey  erected  another.  And  to-day  as  we  sail  by  we 
count  five  of  these  well-aired  tombs.  Very  differ- 
ent are  the  memorials  set  up  by  the  two  races. 
Will  they  at  all  affect  the  ease  of  the  dead  when 
lli(>  loud  trumpet  shall  sound?  Mcmalosc  is  the 
Indian  for  "  i.^land  of  the  Dead." 

But  while  I  have  been  making  these  note.s, 
island  and  tombs  have  receded  from  sight.  Look- 
ing up,  I  find  the  Columbia  flowing  between  foot- 
hills lessening  in  height  every  mile.  Now  the  great 
Cascade  Range  is  behind  ns.  Before  us  stretches 
the  vast  Columbia  Basin.  It  is  six  o'clock,  evening. 
A  half-hour  later  the  steamer  sets  us  ashore  in 
Dalle.s  City,  two  hundred  and  six  miles  from  the 
Pacific,  and  about  two-third  the  distance  across  the 
State  of  Oregon.  The  (V)lunil)ia  is  a  deep,  rapid 
stream,  thirteen  hundred  miles  long,  and  navigable 
for  steamers  of  but  ordinary  size,  onlv  to  the  above 


p( 


)in 


t.      It 


s    sou 


rce    is    the    Columbia    Lidces  in  the 


Ilocky  Mountains,  nearly  four  thousand  feet  above 
sea-level.  It  is  the  largc-t  liver  in  the  United 
tttates  flowing  into  the  Pacilic. 


f<rifif,jgmi.yim 


XXXVI. 

In  iPHB  (Columbia  Basin. 


MY  destination  being  Walla  Walla,  in  the  ex- 
treme south-eastern  corner  of  Washington  Ter- 
ritory, and  the  train  from  Portland  thither  being 
due  at  nine  in  the  evening,  there  were  two  hours 
and  a  half  to  be  whiled  away  in  Dalles  City  as  best 
one  could.  I  determined,  therefore,  as  did  ray  Con- 
necticut friends,  to  walk  about  the  place  and  ascer- 
tain what  of  interest  it  contained. 

We  found  its  popuhition  to  be  about  thirty- 
three  hundred,  and  its  location,  on  a  gentle  incline 
extending  from  the  great  river  back  to  a  range  of 
low  hills,  very  pleasant  indeed.  Climbing  to  the 
top  of  these  hills  by  the  flights  of  steps  and  little 
bridges,  provided  by  the  citizens  that  the  outlook 
may  be  enjoyed,  we  were  well  rewarded  for  our 
effort.  Beyond  the  hills,  eastward,  stretcjjes — coun- 
try, endless  country.  Everywhere  is  vastness,  vast- 
ness  of  prairie  on  one  hand,  vustness  of  mountains 
on  the  other. 

The  banks  of  the  Columbia  being  nowhere 
crowded  with  inhabitants,  not  even  where  the  hills 
recede  from  them  sufficiently  for  the  purpose,  Dal  lew 
City  is  the    largest  and    most   important    point  at 


J  I.. 


f;.. 


i:l> 


^^ 


340 


OREOOX 


wliich  stoatnors  stop  after  leaving  Vancouver,  It 
publishes  two  newspapers;  contains  four  or  five 
neat  churches;  displays  a  fine  new  school-house, 
much  ahead  of  present  necessities  as  to  accommo- 
dations; exhibits  numerous  tasteful  dwellings,  em- 
bowered in  a  great  deal  of  shade  for  a  treeless  region  ; 
presents  a  number  of  small  stores  and  shops;  and 
has  a  spacious,  well-conducted  hotel,  called  the 
Unuitilla  House.  Its  dining-room,  in  respect  to 
size,  is  modeled  after  the  Columbia  Basin,  and  was 
no  doubt  planned  in  anticipation  of  an  immense 
through  travel  from  **the  States."  But  in  the  dis- 
tance we  descry  the  head-light  of  the  train  fiom 
Portland.  So  we  bid  the  bright  little  town  at  the 
western  gateway  of  the  Inland  Empire  good- 
night. We  are  off  for  Walla  Walla,  distant  an  all- 
night's  ride. 

There  have  always  existed  small  towns,  whose 
name  and  fame  have,  for  peculiar  reasons,  extended 
far  beyond  their  natural  limits.  Walla  Walla  is 
8uch  a  town.  I  have  read  of  it  ever  since  I  can 
remember.  Iiulecd,  it  was  in  j)rint  before  it  had 
being.  Its  settlement  began  in  18-19.  Three  things, 
if  no  more,  have  conduced  to  its  reputation.  First, 
a  hero  and  his  wife — Dr.  and  Mrs.  Whitman — fixed 
their  abode  near  the  place  as  early  as  1887.  Second, 
the  occurrence  of  a  terrible  tragedy  on  the  site  of 
that  al)ode,  in  which  fifteen  persons  lost  their  lives 
teu  years   later,    rendered    the    name   a   household 


IX  THE  COLUMBIA  BASiy. 


341 


word  in  missionary  circles  east  of  the  Mississippi. 
Then  followed  the  discovery  that  the  soil  of  the 
region  was  finely  adapted  to  the  raising  of  cereals, 
wheat  especially,  excellent  in  quality,  surprising  in 
quantity.  This  sent  its  name  across  the  seas,  and 
to-day  "  Walla -Walla  wheat"  is'  known  in  the 
grain-markets  "of  the  world.  Walhi  Walla  has 
also  long  been  a  military  station  for  holding  the 
Indians  in  siihjcction.  It  contains  the  customary 
arsenal,  quarters  for  soldiers,  and  dwellings  for 
officers. 

Walla  V^alla  lies  six  miles  north  of  the  boundary- 
line  of  Oregon,  in  the  county  and  valley  of  that 
name.  It  stands  near  the  center  of  the  immense 
district  drained  by  the  Columbia  and  its  tributaries 
east  of  the  Cascade  Range.  Mountain  chains  hem 
the  region  on  the  east,  south,  and  west,  as  does  a 
series  of  steppes,  hills,  and  summits  on  the  north. 
The  soil  of  the  vast  area  is  composed  chiefly  of  dis- 
integrated basalt,  or  pulverized  ashes  and  scoriaj, 
and  is  the  product  of  the  overflows  of  the  long 
eruptive  volcanoes  of  the  Cascade  Range.  It  is  of 
great  depth,  and  inexhaustibly  fertile.  For  years  it 
was  considered  worthless  for  other  than  grazing  pur- 
poses, except  in  certain  valley  situations.  When 
the  settlers  became  too  numerous  to  draw  bread  from 
these  valleys,  it  was  discovered,  almost  accidentally, 
that  the  entire  section  would  produce  bountifully, 
not  only  the  grains,  but  the  chief  fruits  of  our  zone 


T 

1- 


mmmmmmmmm 


fS 

i''';Ui 

ii.;..«^  ; 

'  i 


w 


o 


tH 


O 


7A'  THE  COLUMBIA  BAShW. 


343 


inoludiiig  all  the  fuvorito  berries.  Growing  grapes 
for  raisins  has  been  attempted  slightly,  if  at  all. 
The  wine  varieties  thrive  well.  Wheat,  however,  is 
the  great  staple. 

Heretofore  the  variety  known  as  "club  wheat" 
has  been  generally  raised.  It  offers  a  partieular  ad- 
vantage, in  that  the  chaff  does  not  open  and  lose 
the  berry,  a  material  consideration  in  a  land  where, 
the  rain-fall  being  light,  the  crop  may  stand  until 
harvesting  is  convenient.  But  experiments  con- 
ducted during  the  past  two  or  three  years  with 
Scotch  Fife  wheat,  indicate  that  it  will  exceed 
in  production  the  variety  now  grown  by  about 
twenty-nine  per  cent.  It  also  makes  a  flour  likely 
to  be  more  acceptable  to  the  market.  It  has  been 
estimated  that  the  average  yield  of  wheat  per  acre 
in  the  Columbia  Basin  is  seventy-seven  per  cent 
greater  than  that  of  any  other  wheat  section  in  the 
United  States. 

Mr.  H.  P.  Isaacs,  a  gentleman  extensively  en- 
gaged in  the  manufacture  of  flour  in  Walla  Walla 
and  at  Prescott,  forty-one  miles  distant,  claims  that 
it  will  tax  the  utmost  carrying  capacity  of  the  Ore- 
gon Railway  and  Navigation  Company's  road  for 
one  year,  to  convey  the  present  season's  crop  to 
Portland — practically  the  sea-board.  He  places  the 
harvest  at  from  two  and  a  half  to  three  million 
tons.  The  size  of  the  berry  this  year  is  reniarkr.ble. 
Mr.  Isaacs   has   long   resided    in    Walln   Malla,  and 


11 


344 


OREO  ON. 


-     -=*s-f 


affirms  that  any  man  who  chooses  to  settle  in  that 
valley,  bringing  with  him  good  health,  strict 
economy,  and  ordinary  business  sagacity  will  in  a 
few  years  become  well-to-do,  though  coming  with 
but  small  capital. 

Along  the  western  slope  of  the  Blue  Mountains, 
bounding  the  Walla-Walla  Valley  on  the  east,  may 
be  seen  to-day  eighty  miles  of  continuous  wheat- 
fields,  lying  all  golden  under  the  bright  sun.  Yes- 
terday afternoon  Miss  Bessie  Isaacs,  a  young  lady 
of  rare  intelligence  and  good  sense,  drove  me  to  a 
point  where  I  could  see  vast  acres  of  this  yellow 
grain.  Looking  at  the  scene,  it  occurred  to  me 
that  not  far  away  are  the  new  gold-mines  of  Union 
County,  Oregon,  over  which  the  journ  dists  of  the 
State  aj^i^ear  to  be  losing  their  heads  just. now,  and 
that  editorial  wisdom  and  eloquence  would  be  better 
expended  in  liberally  advocating  wheat-mining 
instead. 

The  climate  of  the  Walla-Walla  Valle^- — I  note 
one  of  its  citizens — resembles  that  of  ^'  Situ- 

ated  east   of  the   Cascades,  and   one  isand  feet 

above  the  sea,  the  atmosphere  is  both  warmer  and 
dryer  than  that  of  the  Willamette  Valley,  which 
lies  at  sea-level,  and  is  often  invaded  by  fogs.  In 
Summer,  particularly  at  midday,  the  mercury  some- 
times registers  a  high  temperature,  but  the  evenings 
and  nights  are  always  agreeably  cool.  From  per- 
sonal experience  the  writer  can  say,  that  at  noon 


IN  THE  COLUMBIA  BASIN. 


345 


to-day  an  almost  tropical  Ibrvor  prevailed ;  but  at 
sunset  a  fine  breeze  sprung  up,  and  after  tea,  when 
Mifcs  Isaacs  drove  me  to  the  train,  for  return  to 
Portland,  warm  wraps  were  eomfortable. 

The  editor  of  the  Walla  Walla  Union,  writing 
on  climatology  in  the  Columbia  Basin,  says  of  this 
valley  :  In  Winter  it  is  not  uncommon  for  the  mer- 
cury to  full  to  zero  for  a  night  or  two,  but  as  a  rule 
it  plays  between  ten  and  forty  degrees  above,  not 
infrequently  rising  to  sixty  and  remaining  there 
for  days  together.  Fifty-five  degrees  is  the  average 
temperature  of  the  whole  Columbia  Basin.  The 
average  annual  rain-fall  of  the  W^alla  Walla  district 
is  sixteen  inches.  The  amount  of  snow-fall  varies 
with  the  seasons.  Ordinarily  farmers  do  not  feed 
their  stock  in  Winter,  the  sage-brush  and  the  nu- 
tritious bunch-grass  affording  them  ample  proven- 
der; yet  in  every  Winter  there  are  days  when 
feeding  must  be  done. 

The  small  city  of  V7'dla  Walla  contains  too  many 
newspapers  and  churches.  Or  I'm.  ^ormer,  there  are 
three  daily  and  five  weekly,  all  '/ushing  for  more 
subscribers.  Of  churches,  there  are  eight  or  nine. 
One  edifice,  built  a  few  years  since,  by  donations 
solicited  in  the  East,  stcnds  with  doors  closed,  be- 
cause, as  said  my  iiiformant,  "  there  is  really  no 
need  of  its  existence."  This  means,  not  that  the 
Gospel  has  no  mission  to  accomplish  in  the  place, 
nor  that  the  people  will  not  listen  to  preaching,  but 


!it 


m 


!.    (I  , 

i! 


ifir:.:  JJ 


i-'Ml 


i 


346 


OREGON. 


that  too  many  denominations  have  attempted  to  gain 
a  foot-hold  in  tlie  community.  Is  not  this  feature 
noticeable  in  almost  every  one  of  the  young  towns 
whicii  dot  the  wide  West?  Would  not  the  people 
be  fully  as  upright  and  intelligent  were  there  fewer 
churches  and  journals?  As  things  are,  both  agen- 
cies are  making  a  desperate  struggle  to  live.  I  am 
deeply  pained  whenever  I  see  a  half-dozen  hand- 
fuls  of  Christ's  people  resorting  to  suppers,  concerts, 
fairs,  tableaux,  and  even  dramatic  readings,  to  main- 
tain for  each  a  pastor  and  church  services.  In  that 
sublime  seventeenth  chapter  "of  John,  the  Savior 
prayed  that  his  followers  might  all  be  one.  Why? 
"  That  the  world  may  know  that  thou  hast  sent  me." 
Divided  Christian  strength  and  forces,  on  our  fron- 
tiers, where  wickedness  usually  concentrates,  is  a  state 
of  things  quite  to  the  devil's  liking.  Moreover  he 
is  never  much  alarmed  when  the  Lord's  children 
are  absorbed  in  giving  entertainments. 

Perhaps  a  word  of  explanation  needs  to  be  said 
with  reference  to  Walla -Walln.  Five  years  ago, 
when  the  Northern  Pacific  Railway  was  striding 
toward  completion,  every  interest  in  the  Columbia 
Basin  expanded,  in  the  imaginations  of  the  people, 
to  abnormal  proportions.  Caught  in  that  cyclone 
of  enthusiasm,  Walla  Walla  laid  foundations  for 
metropolitan  size.  Barely,  however,  had  the  last 
spike  been  driven  ere  "the  cntevprise  colI;ip*od  with 
appalling   results,  for  a  time,  to  the  North-west." 


il 


IX  THE  COLUMBIA  liASfX. 


347 


Some  time  after  the  .shock  the  little  city  straight- 
ened heraelf  np,  looked  around  upon  her  miles  of 
rich  wheat  land,  and  concluded  all  was  not  lost. 
But  s(;me  of  tlie  unnecessary  things  which  then 
came  in,  she  still  retains. 

The  place  has  important  railroad  connections 
east  and  \vest,with  two  or  more  local  lines  penetrating 
productive  sections  at  a  distance.  Its  schools  are 
excellent,  including  Wliitinan  College,  now  coming 
forward  as  the  ])i!)neer  institution  for  higher  learn- 
ing in  Eastern  Washington.  The  college  is  one  of 
the  outgrowths  of  heroic  missionary  endeavor  begun 
among  the  Indians  of  this  Basin  fifty  years  ago. 
The  college  is  intended  as  a  monument  to  Dr. 
Whitman  and  his  wife,  who,  as  already  mentioned, 
were  put  to  death  at  Waulatpn,  six  miles  from  Walla 
Walla,  in  1S47,  by  the  people  they  came  to  serve. 
Dr.  Whitman  was  a  man  of  dauntless  spirit,  of  in- 
vincible energy.  Their  journey  to  Oregon,  in  1837, 
was  accomplished  in  the  face  of  the  most  formidable 
difficulties,  the  transit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  be- 
ing eifected  by  a  new  trail,  and  heartily  opposed  by 
the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  then  arrogating  to  itself 
control  of  all  this  north-western  country.  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  Whitman  were  accompanied  by  a  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Spaulding,  also  missionaries  and  recently  nuir- 
ried.  The  two  ladies  wen?  the  first  white  women 
who  crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains  into  Oregon,  thus 
leading  the  long  column  of  equally  devoted  wives, 


m 


■JIT;, 


Hi- 


\u: 


III 


i 


!l 


m 


348 


OREO  OX. 


who,  in  after  years,  came  to  the  North-west  over 
the  perilous  way.  Here,  on  this  then  fruitless  plain, 
did  that  little  pioneer  band  take  the  initiative  step 
in  establishing  th<!  arts  of  peace,  now  flourishing  on 
every  hand.  Here  opened  they  the  way  for  this 
thriving  village;  for  this  nucleus  of  a  univeisity  for 
the  "  Inland  Empire;"  for  the  eighty  miles  of  ripen- 
ing wheat  this  day  fringing  the  distant  Blue  Hills. 

Some  histories  of  the  North-west  give  to  Dr. 
Whitman  the  credit  of  rendering  the  following  re- 
markable service  to  his  country.  Others,  with 
apparent  justice,  deny  him  the  honor.  Out  of  this 
difiference  of  opinion  has  sprung  a  lively  controversy 
among  local  writers,  and  some  warm  feeling,  partic- 
ularly on  tiie  part  of  the  friends  of  Dr.  Whitman. 
Happily,  it  matters  little  to  him,  now  sleeping  quietly 
at  Waidatpu,  who  **  saved  Oregon  to  the  United 
States."  The  story  is  interesting,  and,  lacking  time 
and  opportunity  to  verify  claims,  were  it  possible  to 
be  done,  I  a|)pend  here  the  version  of  the  matter 
generally  accepted  iu  the  locality  where  Dr.  Whit- 
man lived  and  died. 

In  the  Winter  of  1842,  while  on  a  visit  to  Fort 
Vancouver,  then  a  British  military  and  supply  sta- 
tion, Dr.  Whitman  obtained  evidence  which  he  re- 
garded as  positive  that  the  English  were  quietly 
planning  to  take  possession  of  "all  Oregon,"  as  our 
present  portion  of  the  Pacific  North-west  was  then 
called,  by  introducing  actual  British  settlers,  a  con- 


IN  THE  COLUMBIA  BASIN. 


349 


siderable  company  of  whom  were  then  on  their  way 
to  the  Territory.  Dr.  Wiiitman  at  once  resolved  to 
frustrate  tlie  scheme.  Promptly  returning  to  Wau- 
latpu,  he  related  his  discovery  to  other  members 
of  the  mission^ and  arranged  for  an  immediate  de- 
parture to  Washington.  It  was  midwinter,  and 
the  perils  of  the  way  were  appalling.  But  mounting 
his  horse  he  set  out,  and  successfully  accomplished 
the  feat.  Appearing  at  the  Capital,  he  so  impressed 
upon  Daniel  Webster,  then  Secretary  of  State,  the 
importance  of  retaining  Oregon, as  to  thwart,  so  it 
is  claimed,  negotiations  then  pending  with  England 
for  its  exchange  for  a  comparatively  unimportant 
fishing  territory  oif  our  north-eastern  coast. 

This  mission  accomplished,  the  intrepid  man 
quickly  retraced  his  steps  to  St.  Louis,  where  he 
accepted  the  leadership  of  a  large  party  of  emi- 
grants already  under  way  for  Oregon,  and  success- 
fully conducting  them  across  the  mountains  by  the 
route  over  which  he  had  twice  passed,  he  brought 
them  into  the  Territory  in  advance  of  the  English 
company,  himself  and  his  party  thus  taking  pos- 
session of  the  now  immensely  valuable  region  for 
the  United  States.  Dr.  W^hitman  accomplished  his 
great  feat  in  the  short  space  of  eleven  months. 

On  the  29th  of  November,  four  years  subse- 
quently, occurred  the  massacre  of  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
W^hitman  and  thirteen  others  by  the  Indians.     The 

writer,  then  a  child,  remembers  the  thrill  of  horror 

30 


,    i         ■    Vv. 


['  l\ 


350 


OREGON. 


excited  among  those  interested  in  Indian  missions 
when  news  of  the  dark  deed  reached  the  East. 
"For  an  entire  week,"  said  Mrs.  Isaacs,  speaking  of 
the  tragedy,  "  the  dead  lay  unburied  where  they 
were  slain,  while  fifty  others  were  borne  away  as 
captives." 

Six  miles  before  the  train  arrives  at  Walla 
Walla  the  train  men  announce  "  Whitman  Station." 
Near  at  hand  lies  the  scene  of  that  painful  deed. 
There  rests  the  dust  of  the  martyrs.  In*  time  a 
memento  of  stone  will  mark  the  spot;  but  while 
that  delays,  Whitman  College  is  rising,  a  nobler 
tribute  to  the  self-denying  missionaries. 


XXXVII. 
fl    ROBIiB   tJt50MAN. 

WHAT  SHE   DID— HOW   «HE   DID  IT. 


AS  in  the  landib^ape,  visible  from  the  bluff  which 
swoops  aro'.nd  Portlniul,  there  are  a  uuinher 
of  graiiu  Mio.v-cones  whieh  tower  above  the  lesser 
.summits  of  tlie  Cascade  Range,  so  within  that  city 
there  live  women  who,  in  talent,  influence,  and  un- 
selfisli  labors  for  the  race,  rise  above  the  common 
level  of  their  sex  in  the  community.  Not  more 
loving  are  they  than  other  women,  not  more  beau- 
tiful, not  greater  favorites  in  society;  but  in  strong 
characteristics,  in  breadth  of  view.s,  in  versatility  of 
gifts,  in  persistency  of  purpose,  they  surpass  other 
women.  They  are  women,  not  indifferent  to  criti- 
cism, but  fearless  of  it.  Mu.st  an  unaccu.stomed 
course  be  taken,  they  stop  not  to  inquire,  "  What 
will  be  said  about  it?"  but  take  it. 

Of  one  such  woman  1  desire  to  speak  in  this 
chapter — one  who,  in  early  days  in  Oregon,  en- 
countered perils  as  varied  as  did  the  chief  of  the 
apostles  in  Minor  Asia.  If  she  fought  not  with 
wild  beast  in  any  Western  Ephesus,  nor  was  stoned, 
nor  beaten  with  rods,  nor  pas.sed  night.«;  nor  days  in 

the  deep,  she  was  certainly  "  in  ])crils  am(»ng  false 

351 


1 1 


"  % 

'i      Is''! 


f  t 
I  ( 


^11 


Hn 


352 


OREGON. 


brethren."  She  struggled  with  poverty,  with  ill- 
nesses, with  disappointments,  toiled  night  and  day 
to  support  a  large  family,  resisted  fierce  prejudices, 
was  evil-spoken  against,  contended  for  years  with 
those  who  were  intolerant  of  innovations  upon  a 
long  established,  but  unjust,  order  of  things. 

One  day  in  1852 — possibly  1851 — there  might 
have  been  seen  filing  out  upon  the  prairie,  from 
Peoria,  Illinois,  with  faces  set  westward,  a  family 
of  ten  persons  by  the  name  of  Scott.  It  consisted 
of  the  father,  mother,  two  sons,  and  six  daughters. 
The  fame  of  the  rich  Willanu'tte  Valley  had  reached 
their  ears,  and  thither  were  they  bound  with  all  their 
worldly  possessions.  For  some  weeks  there  befell 
the  company  only  the  usual  haps  and  misliLps  inci- 
dent to  transcontinental  travel  in  that  early  day. 
No  occasion  for  serious  heartache  occurred  until 
the  little  band  reached  a  point  about  sixty  miles 
west  of  Fort  Laramie.  There  the  tender  mother 
paused  in  the  tiresome  journey,  and  lay  down  to  die 
amid  the  solitude  of  the  Black  Hills  of  Wyoming. 
Burying  her  by  the  roadside,  the  sorrowful  group 
moved  on,  the  eldest  daughter  taking  the  mother's 
place  in  the  family.  But  trials  never  come  singly. 
A  few  days  later,  the  younger  son,  an  interesting 
lad,  added  another  to  the  long  line  of  sleepers  bor- 
dering the  emigrant  trail  from  St.  Louis  to  the 
Valley  of  the  Columbia.  Their  passage  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  was  by  a  route  nearly  coincident 


A  JSOBLE  WOMAN. 
:.  Whitman, 


353 


wnen  puotinir 


loti 


with  that  adopted  by  Dr.  "^ 

his  long  caravan  of  eight  hundred  settlers  into  the 

Walla  Walla  Valley  in  1842. 

Abigail  Scott,  the  second  danjihter,  naturally  of 


Emigi'anta  Crosair.g  ihe  I.Iountaina. 

a  literary  turn,  was  from  the  outset  the  scribe  of 
the  family,  and  recorded  the  events  of  the  wearisome 
march.  Preserved  to  this  day,  the  pages  of  that 
record,  in  their  force,  clearness,  and  diction,  fore- 
shadowed the  noble  service  she  has  since  rendered 


354 


OREGON. 


a.. 


it.  ' 


the  Pacific  North-west  with  her  pen.  Her  descrip- 
tion of  the  last  vigils  beside  her  dying  brother, 
with  the  solemnities  of  night  and  of  nature  around 
them,  is  most  vivid  and  touching,  wiiiie  her  por- 
trayal of  lighter  events  is  very  bright  and  amusing. 

In  due  time  the  residue  of  the  family  arrived  in 
the  Willamette  Valley,  and  located  at  Albany,  some 
eighty  miles  south  of  Portland.  Not  long  after- 
ward the  arguments  of  an  excellent  young  man  by 
the  name  of  Duniway,  convinced  Abigail  that  taking 
his  name  would  insure  the  happiness  of  both.  They 
were  married,  and  soon  settled  upon  a  farm,  begin- 
ning.their  fortune-building,  with  youth,  energy,  and 
industry  for  capital.  In  the  attempt  the  young  wife 
shrank  from  no  task.  Naturally  acquisitive,  she 
made  every  stroke  tell  toward  winning  a  home. 

As  the  years  S2)ed  by  there  were  born  to  them 
five  sons  and  a  daughter.  For  them  all  the  young 
mother  diligently  washed,  ironed,  cooked,  scrubbed, 
made  and  mended  garments,  and  faithfully  cared 
in  illness.  To  this  she  usually  added  marketing 
the  produce  of  the  farm,  and  purchasing  the  sup- 
plies for  the  household.  Thus  passed  nine  years 
of  unremitting  labor.  At  their  close,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Duniway  found  themselves  in  circumstances 
of  con)parative  ease.  But  now  there  occurred,  so 
to  speak,  a  business  cyclone  which  swept  away  all 
their  hard  earnings  with  a  stroke.  A  party  for 
whom   Mr.  Duniway   became  responsible,  failed  to 


Pi  til,':    ■ 


A  NOBLE  WOMAN. 


355 


tor 
to 


meet  his  obligations,  and  the  fine  farm  met  them 
for  him.  Thus  were  the  couple  set  back  to  their 
starting-point,  but  willi  six  more  mouths  to  feed, 
six  more  bodies  to  clothe.  Barely,  however,  had 
this  blow  fallen,  when  Mr.  Dnniway  met  with  an 
accident  which  rendered  him  helpless  for  years. 
This  threw  upon  the  wife  the  total  support  of  the 
family.  She  was  equal  to  the  emergency,  and  put 
forth  the  most  heroic  endeavors. 

Of  the  few  occupations  then  open  to  women  in 
Oregon,  school-teaching  was  at  once  adopted  by 
Mrs.  Duniway,  in  addition  to  her  domestic  tasks. 
Preferring  a  public  school,  she  passed  the  required 
examination,  obtained  a  certificate  of  the  first  grade, 
and  applied  for  the  school  at  the  village  of  Eugene, 
if  I  am  correct.  To  her  astonishment,  the  po- 
sition, with  a  salary  more  liberal  than  she  had 
required,  was  given  to  a  man  who,  applying  for  a 
certificate  at  the  same  time  with  herself,  had  re- 
ceived a  testimonial  of  the  second  grade  only,  both 
nimself  and  the  directors  being  aware  how  deplor- 
able  was  her  need. 

Did  she  now  give  up  in  despair?  She  was  far 
too  heroic  to  do  that.  Quickly  arranging  therefor, 
she  began  private  teaching;  but  the  income  from 
that  source  being  inadequate,  she  added  to  her 
labors  the  keeping  of  boarders.  These  lines  of 
work  Mrs.  Duniway  pursued  four  years,  day  and 
night,  performing  prodigies  of  toil  in  the   way    of 


f^' 


mm 


mi-  ~- 


Ml 


356 


OREGON. 


washing,  ironing,  cooking,  sewing,  and  at  times  saw- 
ing the  wood. 

At  the  ch)se  of  this  period,  to  further  increase 
her  income  became  imperative.  How  cnuM  she 
do  it?  For  years  she  had  performed  the  labor 
of  at  least  three  strf)ng  women.  The  result  was 
impaired  health  and  an  undermined  constitution. 
Still  left  her  were  courage  and  versatile  ability. 
Her  course  was  soon  shaped.  vVbandoning  teaching, 
Mrs.  Duniway  removed  her  husband  and  little  flock 
to  Lafayette,  a  now  thriving  vilUige  some  miles 
south  of  Portland,  where  she  opened  a  millinery  es- 
tablishment. The  prevailing  sentiment  among  men 
in  Oregon  in  that  day  was  intensely  averse  to  a 
married  woman's  venturing  beyond  the  precincts  of 
home  for  employment.  It  was  this  generous  notion 
which  had  closed  to  the  struggling  woman  the  door 
of  the  public  school.  Its  next  endeavor  was  to 
prevent  her  success  in  business.  To  that  end  vari- 
ous hindrances  were  thrown  in  her  way.  Never- 
theless she  maintained  her  grouiid,  and  made  some 
money. 

Meantime  all  these  experiences  had  been  laid 
up.  Other  women  in  Oregon  had  encountered  the 
same  difficulties.  Was  there  no  remedy?  Must 
women  toiling  for  bread  for  themselves  and  children 
be  thwarted  and  overreached,  and  there  be  no  re- 
dress? How  read  the  laws  of  Oregon  with  refer- 
ence to  such  matters?  questioned  the  woman.     Said 


A  NOBLE  WOMAN. 


357 


Mrs.  Cook,  her  eldest  sister,  speaking  of  this  period 
ill  Mrs.  Dmiiway's  life: 

*'  From  Ijer  girlhood  Abigail  had  never  been 
able  to  comprehend  why  a  woman,  doing  tlie  same 
work  as  a  man,  doing  it  as  well,  oftentimes  better, 
shonld  not  receive  the  same  considerate  treatment, 
and  the  same  compensation;  and  from  the  time  of 
her  millinery  enterprise  her  views  crystallized  rap- 
idly, bringing  her  to  a  turning  point  in  life." 

Her  attention  having  frequently  been  called 
and  to  the  legal  disabilities  under  which  women 
lived  in  Oregon,  Mrs.  Duniway  resolved  to  devote 
herself  to  eflforts  for  their  relief.  The  first  token 
which  the  public  eye  observed  of  this  new  de- 
parture, was  the  deliberate  selling  out  of  her  n)il- 
linery  establishment,  and  the  purchasing  an  outfit 
for  a  newspaper !  Employing  an  experienced  printer 
to  superintend  the  mechanical  work  of  the  office, 
and  assigning  to  her  two  eldest  sons  the  task  of 
setting  the  type,  she  herself  took  the  editor's  chair. 
On  June  15,  1871,  the  first  copy  of  The  New  North- 
west appeared  in  the  field  of  journalism.  Its  me- 
chanical appearance,  the  character  of  its  leading 
articles,  the  freshness  of  its  news  paragraphs,  and  the 
strength  of  its  editorials  placed  the  stranger  sheet 
behind  no  journal  of  the  State.  And  the  womanly 
modesty,  as  well  as  force,  with  which  the  proprietor 
set    forth    her    reasons    for — being   a    newspaper, 

elicited  not  a  few  congratulations  from  rival  knights 

31 


i!  :^^  ■ 

m-: ' 

III 

1  p  f» 

f 

tit  ■ 

i;  :|| 

!'■''■  II 

;  i,:  ■  :  ■mm 

|;J|jii 

f  ^ 

^^^Hl 

1 

In 

fT! 


358 


OREGON. 


of  the  pen.  But  better  had  it  been  for  school  di- 
rectors,  liquor-sellers,  and  some  tradesmen  Ijad  they 
encouraged  the  vvotnan  to  continue  making  bonnets. 

In  her  neat  address  to  the  public,  Mrs.  Duni- 
way  made  no  definite  reference  to  her  purpose  in 
founding  The  Neiv  Northwest,  wiiich  was  the  ad- 
vocation of  woman's  suffrage,  the  most  certain 
means,  as  she  believed,  of  securing  to  her  sex  the 
legal  redress  so  needful.  Barely,  however,  was 
the  new  craft  well  under  way  than  its  mission 
was  disclosed.  From  that  moment,  as  she  had  ex- 
pected, there  poured  upon  the  head  of  tiie  devoted 
woman  a  pitiless  rain  of  red-hot  articles  from  the 
pens  of  editors  and  other  writers  of  the  coast.  Few 
women  could  have  endured  that  long-continued 
scorching.  But,  as  said  one  who  but  slightly,  if  at 
all,  shared  her  opinions:  "There  was  al)undant 
martyr  material  in  her  make-up,  and  she  quailed 
not  for  a  moment." 

Not  long  after  TTie  New  Northwest  entered  the 
newspaper  arena  Susan  B.  Anthony  visited  Oregon. 
Upon  meeting  its  editor,  learning  her  views  on  the 
suffrage  question,  and  finding  she  was  an  effective 
speaker,  she  urged  her  taking  the  platform  in  be- 
half of  that  cause.  Mrs.  Duniway  was  ready  for 
this  line  of  effort  also,  and  soon  became  the  rec- 
ognized leader  of  the  suffrage  ranks  of  the  Pa- 
cific Coast.  For  fourteen  years  thereafter  she 
left  untried  no  proper  endeavor  to   secure   to  the 


f1 


A  NOBLE  WOMAN. 


359 


le 


women  of  Oregon  and  Washington  the  privilege  of 
the  fianchisp.  In  Washington  success  has  heen 
])artially  attained,  the  women  voting  in  certain  cases. 
In  Oregon  iier  victories  have  been  of  anotiier  char- 
acter. By  her  influence  has  heen  effecited  an  almost 
total  revolution  in  the  property  laws  of  the  State  as 
pertaining  to  women,  some  of  which  were  a  dis- 
grace to  its  statute-books.  Her  efforts  to  this  end 
have  exceeded,  it  has  been  said,  those  of  all  other 
persons  of  the  State  combined.  Formerly  in  Oregon 
the  liquor-bills  of  a  thriftless,  intemperate  husband 
could  be  made  a  lien  upon  the  wages  of  a  wife, 
even  when  earned  by  working  out  by  the  week. 
Mrs.  Duniway  determined  this  law  should  be  re- 
pealed, and  it  was.  Other  similar  enactments  met 
with  the  same  fate,  or  were  so  amended  as  to  be 
unobjectionable. 

Fortunately,  in  the  foreman  of  her  printing  es- 
tablishment Mrs.  Duniway  secured  an  honorable  and 
a  capable  assistant.  As  her  sons  reached  suitable  age 
the  mother  put  them  to  learning  the  printer's  trade 
under  his  instructions,  when  not  busy  with  their 
studies.  To-day  Mrs.  Duniway  has  five  sons  who  are 
not  only  accomplished  practical  printers,  but  young 
writers  of  experience  and  ability,  and  all  devoting 
their  energies  in  some  capacity  to  The  New  Northwest. 
For  six  years  past  the  three  eldest  have  been  its 
responsible  managers.  They  are  sensible,  indus- 
trious, temperate,  and  courteous  young  men,  respected 


^li 


i 


m 


V  i 


;ilp ';.■■• 


Ik 


^Mi 


iilll 


360 


OREGON. 


in  the  community,  devoted  to  their  mother,  and 
all  residents  in  her  home,  on  the  corner  of  Fifth 
and  Clay  Streets. 

Whenever  a  subject  of  importance  is  to  be 
discussed  in  the  paper,  some  one  of  the  three  takes 
it  in  hand,  deals  with  it  from  his  point  of  view,  and 
then  submits  it  to  the  others,  by  whom  the  work  is 
carefully  reviewed,  and  such  changes  made  as  are 
deemed  best,  the  writer  acquiescing  gracefully.  If 
he  be  absent  from  home,  the  two  at  their  post  take 
the  liberty  of"  cutting  his  manuscript"  if  necessary, 
and  never  is  an  objection  raised.  Articles  from 
the  mother's  pen  fare  no  better,  as  I  discovered  yes- 
terday. Upon  my  calling  at  the  office  for  an  item 
of  information,  one  of  the  proprietors,  referring  to  a 
communication  his  mother  had  written  while  absent 
from  the  city,  said  : 

"  We  have  without  hesitation  omitted  whole 
paragraphs,  simply  because  the  subject  being  a  local 
one,  we  are  more  familiar  with  the  circumstances 
than  is  mother.  She  will  thank  us  when  she  re- 
turns." At  the  same  time  ho  remarked,  alluding  to 
another  matter : 

"  We  mean  it  shall  be  distinctly  understood  by 
the  public,  that  we  stand  by  our  mother  and  her 
opinions.  We  always  have,  and  always  shall.  What 
she  has  done  for  us,  not  many  women  do  for  their 
sons.  And  every  day  but  increases  our  love  and 
respect  for  her." 


^*! 


I    il 


A  NOBLE  WO  if  AN. 


361 


It  need  scarcely  be  added  that  Mrs.  Duniway 
has  quite  outlived  the  cutting  ridicule  from  news- 
papers, poiiticiiu:?^  and  people,  which  her  course 
excited  on  this  part  of  the  coast  forrleen  yeurs  ago. 
She  was  then  generously  accused  of  "  neglecting  her 
home,  her  children,  her  invalid  husband."  Her 
sous,  it  was  averred,  were  "growing  up  a  worthless, 
dangerous  troop,  a  disgrace  to  the  community." 
Now  that  fierce  unreasoning  cry  has  ceased,  and  she 
is  reaping  the  rich  rewards  of  a  life  of  conspicuous 
self-denial  and  fidelity  to  duty. 

Mrs.  Duniway  has  contributed  to  the  literature 
of  the  North-west  Coast,  "  David  and  Anna  Matte- 
son,"  one  volume,  iu  verse.  It  is  a  story  of  New 
England  life,  woven  out  of  the  thrilling  history  of 
a  sea-faring  n>an  and  his  family.  It  is  written  in 
a  vigorous  style,  and  incites  to  a  life  of  lofty 
patience,  of  sublime  self-denial  on  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other,  portrays  selfishness  as  a  corroding  rust, 
destroying  every  charming  trait  of  human  character. 
The  book  was  another  of  Mrs.  Duniway's  attempts — 
and  successes — for  the  suj>port  of  her  family,  its 
sale  OS  well  as  authorsh  ,>  bciiig  her  personal  work. 

Of  the  six  young  girls  who  rode  out  of  Peoria 
on  that  early  Summer  day,  the  subject  of  this 
sketch  is  not  the  only  one  who  in  Oregon  fought 
her  way  through  adversities  in  serried  ranks.  Of 
one  other,  something  will  be  said  iu  a  subsequent 
chapter. 


i 


M 


•M 


\ 


'I 


1 ' 


M)i 


?• 


XXXVIII. 
Ol^BGON'S    G>APITAL.— ^I^UNB    (SULTUI^B. 


IN  niidfunimcr,  with  tlie  door.s  of  the  State  House 
ch)se(l,  the  K^gishitors  dispersed,  and  ))rubal)ly 
one-fourth  of  its  citizens  breathing  salt  aii  beside 
the  far-off  sea,  Salem,  the  civil  capital  of  Oregon, 
is  but  a  quiet  city — population  in  the  fifth  thou- 
sand— with  remarkably  wide  streets,  a  fair  amount 
of  shade,  numerous  fine  homes,  and  the  usual  list 
of  State  institutions.  Fifty-three  miles  south  of 
Portland — the  commercial  metropolis,  lying  in  a 
marvelously  rich  valley,  with  the  beautiful  Willa- 
mette flowing  by  on  the  west,  aflTording  plenty  of 
water-power  for  manufactures,  Salem  should  soon 
be  a  large  city.  A  railroad  built  westward  to  tide- 
water at  CooH  Bay,  and  another  through  the  heart 
of  Eastern  C;?gon  to  close  connection  with  a  through 
line  to  the  East,  and  the  inviting  of  manufactures 
by  cranling  land  whereon  to  plant  them,  would  cer- 
tainly make  it  such. 

A  good  map  of  Oregon  will  show  the  reader 
Salem,  situated  not  like  the  law-making  town  of 
Ohio,  near  the  center  of  the  State,  but  far  up  in  the 
north-western  corner,  with  the  great  commonwealth 

(Oregon  is  twice  as  large  as  the  Slate  of  New  York, 

362 


^ 


OREGON'S  CAPITAL. 


303 


with  two  hundred  and  seventy-four  square  miles  to 
'spare)  stretching  eastward  from  it  about  three  hun- 
dred and  thirty  niiU'.s,  and  southward  over  two  hun- 
dred miles,  while  the  northern  an<l  western  boundaries 
are  distant  from  sixty  to  seventy  miles  respectively. 

Salem  was  settled  early  in  the  century  by  a 
company  of  missionaries  from  Massachusetts,  and 
takes  its  name  from  Salem  in  that  State  ;  thus  again 
have  we  towns  of  the  same  name  on  both  our  ocean 
shores.  The  place  was  laid  out  by  oue  of  the  mis- 
sionaries. He  happened  to  have  the  good  sense 
and  uprightness  to  give  to  its  streets  and  avenues 
broad-gauge  dimensions.  For  this  he  should  bo 
accorded  the  fervent  gratitude  of  all  Salem  people 
who  shall  come  after  him. 

In  the  erection  of  its  State  buildings,  Oregon 
can  not  be  charged  with  extravagance.  The  State- 
house  is  a  cheerful-looking  structure,  built  of  brick, 
stuccoed,  impressive  only  in  length,  and  destitute 
of  turret  or  dome ;  but  its  plan  contemplates  the 
latter  on  a  grand  scale, over  the  broad  passage  sepa- 
rating the  legislative  chambers,  with  minor  eleva- 
tions on  each  end.  The  ample  park  in  which  the 
capitol  stands  is  inclosed  by  a  plain  fence,  but  lacks 
ornamentation  in  the  form  of  shrubs  and  flowers, 
and  has  a  scarcity  of  fine  shade-trees.  However,  it 
offl-rs  a  good  opportunity  for  a  landscape  artist  to  dis- 
play his  talent.  These  probably  are  matters  which 
concern  the  law-makers  noi  materially.     Since  they 


i '.  .  (3 


!    'I 


,"  I 


u 


tl-f 


t 

i  '  .1 


I 


1 

1 

• 

arjl                                  OREGON. 

are  liere  but  in  Winter,  the  absence  of  bloom  and 
beauty  is  little  regretted.     On  the  same  street,  near(  r 
the  heart  of  business,  stands  a  new  court-house,  a 
handsome  edifioe  of  brick.     Were  this  the  capitol 

the  voice  of  disappointment  would  not  be  iieard. 
Opposite  the  State-house  appears  the  Willamette 
University,  the  property  of  the  Methodists.  Other 
institutions  in  Salem  are  the  State  Prison,  the  Asy- 
lum for  the  Insane — pronounced  by  Elizabeth  Dix 
one  of  the  best  conducted  in  the  country — the  School 
for  Deaf  Mutes,  and  the  Indian  Training-school, 
established  five  years  ago  under  control  of  the  De- 
partment of  the  Interior,  and  located  on  the  Oregon 
and  California  Railway,  four  miles  out  of  the  (iity. 

In  July  last  this  institution  presented  di])lomas 
to  its  first  alumni.  The  class  included  both  men 
and  women.  Citizens  attending  the  exercises  from 
other  parts  of  the  State  speak  in  high  terms  of  their 
demeanor,  ability,  and  scholarship.  Nevertheless, 
in  the  minds  of  some,  sprung  up  grave  apprehen- 
sions concerning  the  future  of  these  yoimg  men  and 
women,  unless  to  every  one  were  fjirnished  such 
occupation  and  surroundings  as  would  foster  the 
good  already  begun  in  them.  About  on  this  wise 
a  few  days  after  the  exercises,  did  one  long  familiar 
with  Indian  character  express  himself  to  the  writer. 

"  Shotdd  any  of  these  graduates  return  now  to 
dwell  among  their  kindred,  the  danger  is  that  after 
a  litth'  they  will  lapse  into  their  old  habits  of  life. 


■M 


OREGON'S  CAPITAL. 


3«r> 


lO 

■r 


Sliould  any  obtain  situations  among  the  white  race 
in  sliops,  stores,  and  factories,  they  must,  to  a  great 
degree,  live  isohited,  h)uely  lives,  and  eventually, 
giving  up  the  contest,  gravitate  hack  to  the  hut  and 
blanket.  Let  them  even  set  up  their  own  house- 
hold and  settle  down  among  their  race  as  tillers  of 
the  soil  or  as  herdsmen,  the  promises  are, that  with 
the  strong  counter  influence  withdrawn,  they  will 
gradually  drift  down  with  the  tide  of  heathenisnj 
around  them.  Then  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that 
an  educated  young  Indian  will  not  take  for  his  com- 
panion in  life  one  who  has  never  learned  to  read, 
nor  has  had  an  hour  of  training  in  an  exemplary 
American  home.  Many  a  white  man  has  done  (hat. 
Neither  is  there  assurance  that  a  young  Indian 
woman  who  has  been  taught  to  study,  sew,  cook, 
and  keej)  house  fairly  well,  will  not  bestow  her  heart 
nj)on  a  brave  whose  highest  accomplishments  are 
skill  in  taking  fish,  picking  hops,  or  handling  saw- 
logs.  In  either  ca&e,  unless  the  staunchest  Christian 
principles  have  taken  root,  the  party  who  has  en- 
joyed the  best  advantages  will  succumb  to  the  other." 
One  needs,  perhaps,  but  to  point  to  the  results 
of  the  sequestration  of  the  old  Spanish  missions  in 
California  for  evidence  that  savage  peoples  brought 
under  elevating  influences  for  a  term  of  years  will, 
with  those  influences  removed,  quit^kly  rotmgrade 
toward  a  wild  life.  What,  then,  shall  be  done?  Shall 
not  tl'.e  training  of  the  Indians  continue?    Aosunnily  ; 


fr 


mo 


OREGON. 


for  some  from  every  institution,  at  every  mission, 
the  circumstances  being  helpful,  will  maintain  their 
liolil  uj)on  civilization,  upon  Christianity.  But  it 
will  save  di.sciDuratienient  in  effort,  save  skepticism 
as  to  the  final  outcome,  to  remember  that  it  requires, 
in  most  instances,  generations  of  uplifting  to  so 
radically  changt;  the  nature  of  savage  tribes  as  to 
insure  their  progress  in  civilization  and  righteous- 
ness when  left  to  shape  their  own  career.  It  is  not 
wholly  the  work  of  a  few  years'  course  in  school. 
T/utt  gives  a  forceful  start.  The  long  holding  on  is 
another  thing.    ; 

Salem  hasaUio  made  liberal  provision  for  churches 
and  common  schools.  The  pioneers  from  Massa- 
chusetts were  not  the  men  and  women  to  omit  agen- 
cies 80  potent  for  the  general  welfare.  Indeed,  the 
"schools  of  the  people"  in  Oregon  rank  among  the 
best  of  the  land,  as  do  those  of  California.  At- 
tendance upon  a  single  session  of  the  Astoria  State 
School  Convention  afforded  evidence  that  the  train- 
ing of  the  body  politic  on  our  north-west  coast  is 
in  able  hands 

Two  large  flour-mills  add  their  ado  to  the  im- 
pression of  business  made  upon  the  visitor.  One 
of  them  is  operated  by  Scotch  money,  if  not  con- 
ducted by  Scot(!hnu>n.  The  Willanu  tte  Valley 
being  one  of  the  fanmus  whe&t  sections  of  the 
country,  Salem,  the  heart  of  it,  ought  to  be  a  favor- 
able   point   for   converting   tlie    cereal    into    flour. 


ll       ':L 


OREGON'S  CAPITAL. 


3G1 


Still  little,  if  any,  is  manufactured  for  exportation. 
Mr.  Samuel  A.  Clarke,  tlie  editor  and  proprietor  of 
the  Willamette  Fdrmcr,  an  acUowledged  authority  on 
such  subjects,  aftirms  that  the  wheat  yield  of  the 
valley  this  year,  will  not  exceed  two-thirds  the 
usual  crop,  and  that  thirty  thousand  tons  will  be 
about  the  amount  for  foreign  export.  The  absence 
of  rain  at  an  important  period,  resulted  in  a  shriv- 
eled berry. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  so  remarkable  a 
shrinkage  in  the  harvest  of  a  region  which  con- 
tributes 80  liberally  to  the  breadstuffs  of  the  world, 
would  affect  somewhat  tiie  price  of  flour  the  coming 
season,  lint  when  it  is  remembered  that  in  England, 
and  on  our  own  Eastern  sea-board,  is  still  in  store  a 
considerable  proportion  of  last  year's  harvest,  and 
that  most  wheat  countries  are  having  avera;Te  crops, 
it  will  be  seen  that  the  deficit  in  this  valley  can 
cause  little  mutatio     in  prices. 

In  respect  to  clifoate,  the  Willamette  Valley  is  a 
favored  locality,  albeit  it  is  sometimes  inopiwrtunely 
visited  by  fogs.  The  uiercury  falls  below  freering 
point  but  few  times  in  the  year.  Yraw  'MS  to 
1883,  no  ice  formed  in  flhe  valley  tkiii-ater  thaan 
window-glass.  Last  Winter,  1884,  was  xn  excep- 
tion. Even  water-pipes — laid,  not  from  m^ven  to 
nine  feet  below  the  surface  as  in  many  EaKtem 
cities — froze  up  solidly,  making  the  plumlu-rs  jubi- 
lant for  several  days.     What  causes  this  high  tcm- 


M 


.']G8 


OREGON. 


fn 


perature?  Well,  first,  the  south-west  trade-winds, 
about  seventy  per  cent  of  the  winds  of  the  coast 
being  from  this  direction.  They  sweep  over  Oregon 
and  Wasliington,  inland  to  the  Cascade  Range,  and 
even  penetrate  the  Ooliimhia  Basin  through  gorges 
in  the  mountains.  Next,  the  Japan  warm  stream, 
of  whose  origin,  extent,  and  influence  upon  the 
climate  little  is  understood  by  the  great  majority 
of  the  people,  contributes  greatly  toward  the  agree- 
able result.  Fifty  inches  is  the  average  amount  of 
annual  rain-fall. 

The  Willamette  Valley  embraces  about  five  mill- 
ion acres  of  arable  land.  A  large  proportion  of 
this  is  under  cultivation  and  commands  high  prices. 
It  yields  most  bountifully,  not  only  the  various 
cereals,  but  all  the  temperate  fruits  and  vegetables. 
Mr.  Clarke,  to  whom,  and  his  gifted  wife,  I  am  much 
indt'bted  for  kindly  attentions,  penned  for  me  the 
following  interesting  sketch  of  the  origin  of  fruit- 
culture  in  Oregon  : 

**  The  first  fruit-trees  grown  in  this  State — ajvples 
chiefly — were  from  seeds  brought  across  the  plains 
by  emigrants,in  1838.  The  first  orchard  was  planted 
in  a  sheltered  cafion,  about  three  hundred  miles  from 
the  sea.  The  Hudson  Bay  Company  also  brought 
both  seeds  and  trees  from  England,  and  planted  them 
at  and  near  Vancouver,  and  some  other  stations. 
Shortly  after  the  gold  era  began  iti  Calif(»iiiia, 
nuuHMoiis  fiirincrs  in  the  Willnniettc  N'^iillt'V,  |)l:iiited 


^Hif  I 


F 


OREGON'S  CAPITAL. 


nr,{) 


many  grafted  apple-trees,  at  a,  cost  of  from  fifty 
cents  to  one  dollar  each,  and  by  a  system  of  high. 
cultivation,  made  them  prodi.cu  abundantly.  The 
fruit  then  ranged  from  ei^dit  to  twelve  dollars 
per  bushel,  and  in  a  few  years  these  farmers  had 
acquired  very  respectable  fortunes,  and  could  be 
seen  riding  ai)out  the  country  in  fine  carriages, 
some  of  which  are  running  to  this  day.  The  ap[)les 
were  shipped  to  California  for  the  miners,  to  vari- 
ous ports  along  the  coast,  and  to  the  Sandwich 
Islands.  Thus  were  *  Oregon  red  apples '  famous 
throughout  this  region,  nntil  the  great  mining  craze 
had  materially  waned.  Then  the  Gold  State,  finding 
she  must  turn  her  hand  to  other  pursuits,  went  into 
fruit-culture.  Soon  her  valleys,  foot-hills,  and  low 
mountains,  began  to  bristle  with  orchards.  The 
trees  were  in  the  right  kind  of  soil,  and  grew  with 
wonderful  rapidity,  and  almost  before  Oregon  was 
aware  of  it,  California  had  apples  of  her  own. 
Now  it  is  her  boast,  that  in  pomological  productions 
she  quite  excels  the  world." 

Meanwhile  Oregon  orchards,  grown  to  maturity, 
produced  amazingly.  The  market  was  overstocked, 
and  apples  became  too  cheap  to  pay  for  raising 
them.  What  then  happened?  All  over  the  State 
the  farmers  neglected  their  trees,  and  to-day  as  one 
journeys,  hundreds  of  decaying  orchards  greet  the 
eye,  while  numbers  beside  have  been  "grubbed  up" 
to   make   room   for   the    wheat-fields    they  once  so 


f 


w* 


k 


370 


OREGON. 


BTimmarily  displaood.  But  with  the  advent  of  rail- 
roads, securing  (iiiick  access  to  markets,  and  to  more 
of  them,  there  has  broken  out  a  fresh  revival  of 
frnit-cnlture  in  Oregon,  throngliont  the  section  west 
of  the  Cascade  Range.  Apples,  pears,  peaches,  pliuna, 
prunes,  and  grapes,  with  all  kinds  of  berries,  help 
make  fortunes  for  men.  Peaches  and  grapes  pro- 
duce well  only  in  occasional  years,  or  when  the 
Summers  are  unusually  warm.  Elegant  peaches 
have  been  grown  in  some  orchards  the  present 
season.  Portland  is  environed  by  fruit  farms — 
mostly  of  moderate  extent.  These  supply  the  city, 
and  make  some  shipments  to  the  East. 

Tree-lice  are  giving  earnest  attention  to  the 
apple-orchards.  Riding  along  the  highway  yester- 
day, near  Salem,  I  ooserved  a  number  of  pitiable 
looking  groves.  The  leaves  were  brown,  dry,  and 
curled.  Like  havoc  was  visible  from  the  car-win- 
dows as  I  rode  down  the  valley  the  day  before. 
The  noxious  pests  were  drawing  the  very  life  from 
the  trees.  The  several  families  of  tbc^  insec!:  have 
pushed  their  ravages  over  most  of  the  State,  but,  up 
to  date,  have  been  content  to  worry  only  the  appKv 
trees.  Unluckily,  however,  California  has  sent  up 
her  "  codlin  moth  "  to  re-enforce  the  ra'ders.  The 
latter  have  a  relish  for  pears  as  well  «is  apples, 
and  promise  to  make  things  lively  for  the  fruit- 
growers. 

But  the  most  interesting  branch  of  fruit-culture 


PRUNE  CULTURE. 


371 


in  the  "NVillnmottp  Viillry  i«  prmios,  Tn  vnriPty, 
size,  sweetness,  and  flavor,  they  surpass  aijy  thing 
in  their  line  I  have  seen  on  tl»o  coast.  As  if 
it  were  not  enoii^ii  to  he  the  owner,  editor,  and 
general  manager  of  an  agricnlfiiral  newspaper,  Mr. 
Clarke  adds  to  that  tlu;  proprietorship  of  two  niag- 
nifieent  prnne-orehards,  nunihering,  together,  from 
five  to  seven  thousand  trees,  just  attaining  their 
prime.  Moreover,  connected  therewith,  he  has  a 
well-equi})ped  dry- house,  in  which,  at  the  season,  he 
personally  superintends  the  (luring  the  fruit  for 
market.  Last  year  the  fifteen  thousniid  pounds  of 
dried  prunes  marketed  from  his  grounds  were 
shipped  to  St.  Paul.  This  year's  crop  has  the  same 
destination. 

A  guest  in  Mr.  Clarke's  home,  delightfully  situ- 
ated in  the  on  skirts  of  Salem,  I  was  invited,  after 
tea  of  the  first  day  to  take  a  seat  heside  him  for  a 
drive  to  the  prune-groves.  Arrived  at  the  place,  I 
opened  my  eyes  in  astonishment.  Never  saw  I  so 
beautiful  a  sight  in  the  way  of  fruit-trees.  There 
they  stood  by  the  thousand,  their  limhs  bent  to  the 
earth  with  the  delicious  product.  Myriads  of  long 
lines  of  purple,  and  blue,  and  scarlet,  and  cream- 
colored  prunes  were  crowded,  thick  as  they  could 
hang,  from  the  center  of  the  trees  to  the  ground. 
In  short,  all  around  me  were  trees  fairly  ahloom 
with  ripened  fruit.  Am'ong  the  varieties  were  the 
Italian,  Colunil)ia,  La  Petite,  Hungarian,  and  Queea 


% 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


Kx 


>     -^ 


«^ 


fd^ 


.c 


%° 


(/j 


y. 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


m  111^ 

^  5  0      "'"=^= 


M 

2,2 

IIIIIM 

m.  11 2.0 


.8 


U    111.6 


f « 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


^^ 


-•Q^' 


"'^\^  <^ 


o 


^s 


i  <^..  '\ 


6^ 


"^"/.^     ■"* 


r^ 


5^         V . 


V 


0 


i^- 


Va 


■# 


1     J? 


(I 


r^ 


i^ 


( ;- 


li:f 


rf!P 


372 


OREGON. 


Claude,  some  laden  with  fruit  the  size  of  an  ordi- 
nary he^iVegg.  The  Hungarian,  a  large,  bright-red 
prune,  fading  to  a  golden  yellow  on  one  side  was 
exceedingly  showy,  thick  in  flesh,  and  delight- 
ful in  flavor.  The  Italian,  of  a  clear  dark-blue, 
oval  in  form,  hung  from  the  limbs  like  colossal 
drops  of  indigo,  and  in  such  numbers  as  to  give  the 
tree  a  blue  appearance,  notwithstanding  the  leaves 
of  green.  The  Queen  Claude,  nearly  round,  gray- 
ish white  in  color,  and  very  saccharine  to  the  taste, 
hugged  the  branches  so  closely  as  to  nearly,  if  not 
quite,  cover  the  wood.  A  good-sized  tree  of  this 
vaiiCty  in  full  bearing  is  an  amazing  sight.  La 
Petite,  diminutive  in  size,  steps  completely  to  the 
front  for  sweetness  and  flavor.  La  Petite  is  em- 
phatically the  .prune  o^  commerce. 

The  process  of  "  making  prunes" — drying  them 
for  the  market — is  very  interesting.  Having  been 
carefully  picked,  the  fruit,  placed  in  a  deep  tin 
vessel,  holding  about  a  peck,  and  pierced  at  the 
bottom  with  many  small  holes,  is  several  times 
rapidly  immersed  in  a  strong  solution  of  concen- 
trated lye,  the  last  time  being  held  in  the  liquid  a 
second  or  two.  This  step  softens  and  breaks  the  cuti- 
cle, which  in  some  varieties  is  very  thick  and  tough. 
The  fruit  is  now  well  rinsed,  drained  thoroughly, 
and  spread  on  a  large,  shallow  wire  crate  to  dry. 
The  crates  are  then  shoved  into  warm  brick  cham- 
bers, several  tiers  in  height,  where,  resting  on  firm 


PRUNE  CULTURE. 


373 


a 


m 


cleats  along  the  sides,  and  kept  at  a  certain  tem- 
perature, they  remain  until  sufficiently  dry.  In  Mr. 
Clarke's  "dryer"  there  are,  I  believe,  six  chambers, 
in  which  may  be  curing  at  one  time  about  forty 
bushels  of  fruit. 

The  constant  attendance  of  one  person  is  re- 
quired at  the  dryer  day  and  night,  through  the  sea- 
son, to  turn  the  fruit,  to  mass  the  contents  of  the 
crates  as  the  prunes  shrink,  and  to  remove  the 
portions  soonest  dry.  At  the  proper  temperature 
most  prunes  will  cure  in  twenty-four  hours.  When 
fully  dry,  they  are  placed,  in  clean,  capacious  bins, 
to  undergo  the  sweating  process,  in  order  to  "even 
up"  the  moisture  and  fill  out  the  prune.  Lastly, 
all  are  carefully  looked  over  by  experienced  hands, 
and  every  imperfect  prune  removed.  Packing  for 
the  market  follows.  For  this  step  Mr.  Clarke  uses 
boxes  holding  twenty-five  pounds  each. 

For  the  more  arduous  picking,  for  night  duty  at 
the  dryer,  and  for  lifting  the  full  crates,  Mr.  Clarke 
employs  Chinamen,  and  for  all  the  lighter  labors 
women  and  girls.  Neatness  is  a  prime  requisite  at 
every  stage  of  the  process. 

The  dryer,  built  inside  the  packing-house,  is  of 
brick  work,  rectangular  in  form,  not  too  high  for 
easy  handling  of  the  upper  tier  of  crates,  and  holds, 
when  filled,  forty-eight  of  these  receptacles.  A  fur- 
nace beneath  the  masonry  supplies  the  heat. 

Aside    from    the   charms  of  the  prune-orchards 

32 


>,i^ 


i 


374 


OREGON. 


themselves,  their  site  affords  one  of  the  most  com- 
prehensive surveys  of  fine  scenery  to  be  had  in  the 
whole  Willamette  Valley.  Snow-cones  and  mount- 
ain spurs,  picturesque  spots  and  historic  localities, 
•lie  all  around  the  beholder. 


I., 


XXXIX. 


Schemes  flii^BD  Contihually. 


ON  whatever  part  of  the  Pacific  Coast  the  trav- 
eler may  roam,  he  is  sure  to  stumble  upon  some 
publication  "devoted  to  the  Great  West."  Every 
little  community  of  five  hundred  people  has  its  news- 
paper, which  serves  &s  its  general  agent.  Through 
its  columns  the  manifold  interests  of  the  locality,  and 
often  of  the  entire  American  Pacific  Coast,  are  pro- 
claimed vo  the  remainder  of  the  world.  One  is  sim- 
ply amazed  at  the  vast  amount  of  money,  energy, 
patience,  and  persistency  there  is  expended  in  set- 
ting forth  the  resources,  advantages,  capabilities,  and 
wonders  of  this  part  of  the  continent.  Hundreds 
of  men,  industrious,  intelligent,  indomitable,  are 
engaged  in  these  efforts,  and  with  a  devotion  which 
falls  little  short  of  infatuation.  A  wild  delirium 
for  "improvements"  has  seized  upon  papers  and 
people.  No  sooner  has  one  set  of  magnificent 
enterprises — such  as  tunneling  a  mountain  range, 
founding  a  city,  building  an  important  railway, 
dredging  the  Columbia  for  fifty  miles — been  printed 
into  being,  by  the  lively  journals,  than  away  speed 
the  go-aheads  to  inaugurate  as  many  more.  Silver- 
mines,    gold-mines,    coal-veins,   oil-deposits,    more 

375 


'M 


li  1 


"ir 


vni'H  ft] 
'i 

it 


;;f: 


Mi 


ft 


U     - 


fr-l 


376 


OREGON. 


railroad  projects,  more  navigation  schemes  are  put 
to  airing,  with  astonishing  vigor.  The  whole  world 
is  invited,  with  touching  frankness  and  cordiality, 
to   kindly  read   about  these   little   matters,  ponder 

» 

them,  form  favorable  conclusions  with  regard  to 
them,  and  finally,  to  generously  help  push  them 
forward. 

One  can  scarcely  pick  up  a  newspaper,  or  mag- 
azine indeed — unless  it  be  a  religious  work — in  San 
Francisco,  which  does  not  somewhere  display,  in 
capitals,  the  legend:  "Devoted  to  the  development 
of  the  Pacific  Coast."  It  matters  little  in  what 
tongue  the  journal  is  published,  its  cardinal  ob- 
ject is  "  to  promote  the  progress  of  the  Great 
West."  And  what  the  metropolitan  papers  do  in 
their  hearty,  magnanimous  way,  those  of  the  lesser 
communities  admirably  imitate.  Thus  it  comes  to 
pass  that  from  one  end  of  the  coast  to  the  other,  is 
heard  this  key-note  pealing  out  loud  and  clear. 

Portland,  being  much  the  largest  city  north  of 
San  Francisco,  finds  assigned  *o  her  papers  no  in- 
significant share  of  this  work,  and  right  loyally, 
so  far  as  their  State  and  city  are  concerned,  do 
they  perform  it;  so  loyally,  that  were  there  not 
other  sources  of  information,  their  readers  might 
suppose  Oregon  embraced  all  the  coast,  and  Port- 
land all  Oregon.  However,  in  this  talent  for  set- 
ting things  forth  in  good  light,  their  neighbors 
north  of  the  Columbia  come  behind  not  a  particle. 


f 


SCHEMES  AIRED  CONTINUALLY. 


377 


The  dailies  of  Paget  Sound  cliampion  the  cause  of 
VVasiiingtou   Territory  with  telling  energy,  and  in 


8 

n- 

W 

c-»- 

(0 

O 
►J 
(-<■ 

5" 

o 

►J 

ru 
oq 
o 


the  struggle  for  "  improvements"  and  for  "settlers," 
are  always  at  the  front. 

Let  me  not  be  understood    as  saying  that  the 
papers   of   the    Pacific    Coast  color  too  highly    its 


378 


OREGON. 


ii 


J: 

il  '5. 


L'li 


resources  and  advantages.  So  radically,  in  many  re- 
spects, does  the  coast  differ  from  most  other  sections 
of  the  country,  that  in  writing  of  it  one's  style  differs. 
Superlatives  drop  naturally  from  his  pen.  Here,  if 
anywhere,  the  command  to  be  temperate  in  all 
things  can  not  include  the  use  of  descriptive  lan- 
guage; fbr  Nature  herself  is  intemperate  in  the 
sense  of  being  extreme,  and  if  one  writes  of  her — 
her  plains,  mountains,  rivers,  forests — he  must  choose 
words  to  fit  the  subject. 

Prominent  among  the  publications  due  to  Port- 
land enterprise,  stands  that  admirable  monthly  mag- 
azine, The  West  Shore,  now  in  the  twelfth  year  of  its 
history.  In  the  center  of  its  richly  illustrated  cover, 
for  1886,  appears  the  favorite  legend :  "  Devoted  to 
the  development  of  the  Great  West."  Between  the 
covers  are  forty  pages  filled  with  beautiful  litho- 
graphs and  good  reading  matter.  "  The  city  on  the 
Blue  Willamette"  furnishes  subjects  for  all  the  pic- 
tures, and  for  the  leading  descriptive  and  business 
articles.  These  reproduce  with  great  fidelity,  some 
of  the  parks,  public  buildings,  private  residences, 
sections  of  the  business  streets,  portions  of  the  river 
and  shipping,  and  several  bird's-eye  views  of  the 
city.  For  beauty  of  finish,  all  these  illustrations 
are  excellent  specimens  of  art.  Other  contents  of 
the  work  are  sketches,  stories,  poetry,  nearly  all 
pertaining  to  the  North-west,  but  forming  an  inter- 
esting miscellany  for  readers  anywhere. 


SCHE3fES  AIRED  CONTINUALLY. 


379 


The  West  Shore  is  edited,  published,  and,  if  I 
mistake  not,  owned  by  Mr.  L.  Samuel,  a  German 
Jew,  reared  in  Sacramento.  His  fellow  citizens  bear 
bearty  testimony  to  his  moral  worth  and  ability, 
and  to  his  excellence  as  a  husband  and  father. 
Like  most  of  his  race,  he  is  rather  short  in  stature 
and  heavy  set.  Very  versatile,  he  turns  with  equal 
facility  to  any  of  the  divers  occupations  of  his  es- 
tablishment, and  is  patient  and  courteous  withal,  as 
the  writer  had  evidence,  recently,  on  paying  a  visit 
to  the  bright  quarters  into  which  he  had,  but  a  day 
or  two  before,  removed  tiie  outfit  of  The  West  Shore. 
The  time  for  the  issue  of  the  February  number  was 
overdue,  while  as  yet  the  office  was  the  only  room 
in  trim  for  business.  Every  line  of  work  was 
driving  at  full  speed,  in  order  to  hurry  out  the 
magazine.  Still  he  who  was  infusing  energy  into 
the  whole,  had  the  disposition  and  found  the  time 
to  be  obliging,  and  to  see  that  my  call  was  not 
in  vain. 

It  would  surprise  some  Eastern  publishers  to 
find  in  this  young  border  city  a  house  of  such  ca- 
pacity as  that  which  sends  out  the  finely  executed 
West  Shore.  Ox  its  kind,  it  is  one  of  the  most  com- 
plete on  the  coast.  Within  its  own  walls  are  done 
all  the  engraving,  printing,  and  binding,  and  by  its 
own  people.  The  West  Shore  was  founded  in  Au- 
gust, 1874.  The  volume  for  last  year,  now  lying 
bofore  me,  would  be  an  attraction  in  any  home. 


'M 


Wm 


i; 


!tf: 


til 


11 


nr 


I 
I*  M 


Ijiyimg  Oi^bgom  Sionebi^s. 


SCATTERED  about  in  various  towns  of  Oregon 
are  persons  who  settled  in  the  State  during  the 
deoade  between  1842  and  1852.  Almost  without 
exception  they  are  men  and  women  of  remarkable 
traits  of  character,  and  most  of  them  are  yet  hard 
at  work,  in  business,  in  journalism,  in  the  practice 
of  law,  in  the  service  of  the  Government,  as  edu- 
cators, as  ministers,  and  farmers.  Prior  to  the 
perilous  journey  across  the  plains,  few  of  them  had 
any  idea  what  hardships  they  could  endure,  of  what 
heroism  they  were  capable.  For  years  after  ar- 
rival in  the  land  of  their  hopes,  the  circumstances 
of  their  lives  were  such  as  to  develop  every  sterling 
quality.  Settled  among  a  wild,  inimicarpeople,  who 
regarded  them  as  invaders,  they  were  often  in  dan- 
ger, and  were  forced  to  be  brave  and  self-reliant. 
Necessarily  they  were  hospitable  people.  In  those 
days  not  to  have  been  free-hearted,  even  to  way- 
farers and  strangers  bent  on  errands  not  disclosed, 
would  have  been  to  incur  reproach  indelible.  Said 
Mrs.  Samuel  Clarke,  discoursing  of  the  past,  during 
my  recent  visit  to  Salem : 

"  For  years  after  we  settled  here  I  entertained  at 
380 


i         i'l 


LIVING  OREGON  PIONEERS. 


881 


my  tabic  multitudos  of  people  of  all  classes,  from  gov- 
ernors and  generals  of  the  army  down,  and  that,  too, 
with  very  limited  table  eqnipments  and  meager  do- 
mestic facilities.  Yet  for  no  consideration  would  I 
be  without  my  experience  in  this  border  Slate.  And 
as  for  that  now  far-back,  painful  journey  across  the 
plains,  it  is  the  richest  chapter  in  the  book.  I 
would  not  have  it  expunged  if  I  could.  It  was  a 
needed  preface  to  life  here,  a  schooling  which,  to  a 
great  degree,  made  a  woman  independent  in  char- 
acter. In  no  other  way  than  by  all  these  expe- 
riences could  the  same  mental  and  moral  develop- 
ment have  been  attained. 

"  In  our  life  here  there  was  not  an  inch  of  ground 
for  false  pride  to  take  root.  I  have  known  a  noble 
young  woman  to  be  wooed  with  her  feet  bare,  and 
to  set  up  housekeeping  dowered  with  but  a  tea- 
kettle, a  skillet,  a  single  change  of  bed-linen,  and  a 
table  outfit  for  two.  Under  such  conditions  the 
pride  a  woman  has  is  noble." 

Could  the  accounts  of  the  thrilling  scenes,  in 
which  most  of  these  people  have  taken  part,  be  jotted 
down  as  they  yet  sometimes  fall  from  their  lips, 
many  an  interesting  chapter  would  they  make.  Hap- 
pily, much  of  this  desirable  work  has  been  done, 
both  by  Mr.  Hubert  H.  Bancroft,  in  his  great 
"  History  of  the  Pacific  Coast  States,"  and  by  Mrs. 
Frances  Fuller  Victor,  in  her  bright  work  entitled 

"All  Over  Oregon  and  Washington,"  and  also  in  a 

33 


:i 


,    iii 


Ii  T  ' 


I   ;  !l 


'If! 


382 


onicGox. 


M'--ii 


volume  vvliicli  she  was  indiioed  to  miscall  **  The 
Great  River  of  the  West,"  the  work  being  really  a 
Bketcii  of  the  operations  of  the  **  lloeky  Mountain 
Fur  Com])any."  In  this  the  lady  has  drawn  to  the 
life,  the  portraits  of  numerous  remarkable  characters 
who  figured  on  this  north-western  coast  in  a  very 
early  day. 

Among  those  who  appeared  on  the  scene  about 
1850  are  Mr.  and  'Mrs.  Clarke,  of  Salem,  both  di- 
rectly from  Ohio;  Mr.  Clarke  being  a  Fetinsylvanian 
by  birth,  however.  Previous  to  iiis  attack  of  West- 
ern fever,  the  latter  resided  for  some  years  in  San- 
dusky, Ohio,  a  most  worthy  family  in  that  city  being 
his  relatives.  Most  of  Mr.  Clarke's  life  in  Oregon 
has  been  devoted  to  literary  labor,  chiefly  in  the 
field  of  journalism.  Years  ago  the  New  York  Times 
paid  hira  large  sums  of  money  for  ^Yestern  corre- 
spondence, a  line  of  work  in  which  he  excelled. 
For  a  considerable  period  his  thoughts  sparkled  in 
the  columns  of  the  Sacramento  Record-Union,  and  at 
the  same  time,  I  think,  in  those  of  the  San  Francisco 
Daily  Bulletin.  Later  Mr.  Clarke  held  a  position 
which  may  be  designated  as  that  of  descriptive 
writer  for  the  "Oregon  Bureau  of  Emigration,"  and 
a  like  relation  to  the  earlier  Oregon  railroads. 
Together  these  were  extremely  favorable  posts,  in 
that  their  duties  drew  him  to  every  quarter  of  his 
own  State  and  of  the  neighboring  Territory  of 
Washington,  acquainting   him    not    only    wiih    the 


LIVING  OREGON  PIONEERS. 


383 


s. 
in 
la 
if 


country,  but  with  the  people  and  their  history; 
and  thus  peeuliarly  qualilying  liiin  for  the  author- 
ship of  the  series  of  historieal  sketeiies  now  runniug 
tlirough  the  Sunday  editions  of  I'/ie  Ovcgoniiv  ,  ;  re- 
eminently  the  leading  daily  of  the  North-wesL  Coast, 
and  of  which  Mr.  Clarke  was  the  editor  over  twenty 
years  ago. 

Somewhere  along  in  the  sixties  Mr.  Clarke  fur- 
nished to  Harper^s  Magazine  a  poem  covering  fl^^v- 
cral  columns,  the  theme  of  which  was  ''The  Colum- 
bia River  and  the  Remarkable  Legend  of  the 
Cascades."  For  beauty  of  description,  for  vivid 
portraya-l  of  Indian  emotions,  of  the  Indian's  power 
to  suffer  and  be  strong,  and  of  iiis  conception  of  the 
rage  of  the  spirits  of  the  mountains  when  engaged 
in  a  dire  conflicf  for  supremacy,  the  production  is 
scarcely  equaled  in  that  class  of  literature.  There 
was  a  time  when  Mr.  Clarke  allowed  a  few  Western 
border  stories  from  his  pen  to  charm  the  readers  of 
Eastern  journals,  but  laHerly  he  seems  not  to  have 
had  leisure  for  such  pastime. 

Mrs.  Clark  also  is  endowed  with  the  newspaper 
instinct,  and  that  by  inheritance.  She  is  a  daughter 
of  Mr.  George  Buckingham,  long  "sident  in  the 
pretty  town  of  Norwalk,  Ohio,  who,  with  Mr. 
Samuel  Preston  of  that  place,  established  the  Hu- 
ron (now  Norwalk)  Reflector,  and  the  granddaughter 
of  Henry  Buckingham,  the  founder  of  the  old  Nor- 
walk Reporter,  the  first  newspaper  published  in  that 


t   ;  ''ti 
1   '  V 


m 
m 


"Si 


■•il'  i 


384 


OREGON. 


I 


village.  The  grandfather  emigrated  to  Norwalk 
from  Pennsylvania  as  early  as  1826,  and  to  the  end 
of  his  life  was  a  notable  man  in  the  community. 
He  was  born  on  one  of  the  stony  farms  of  Con- 
necticut, and  possessed  granitic  traits  of  character. 
In  Ohio  he  was  known  both  as  a  staunch  temper- 
ance man  and  a  fervent  Abolitionist.  To  belong  in 
the  latter  ranks  in  that  day  tried  a  man's  principles, 
and  sometimes  placed  his  life  in  jeopardy.  Not  in- 
frequently, I  have  been  told,  might  Mr.  Buckingham 
have  been  seen  conveying  a  wagon-load  of  escaped 
slaves  from  Norwalk  to  the  village  of  Milan,  some 
four  miles  nearer  the  land  of  freedom — Canada. 
His  home  was  a  prominent  way  station  on  the 
famous  "under-ground  railway"  of  those  days,  a 
corporation  which  did  business  at  its  own  expense, 
and  solely  for  the  good  of  others. 

The  press  and  type  upon  which  the  Norwalk 
Reflector  was  first  printed  were  purchased  by  George 
Buckingham  in  Cincinnati,  the  journey  thither  be- 
ing made  on  horseback,  and  consuming  three  weeks 
of  time.  They  were  brought  across  Ohio,  then  by 
no  means  so  populous  a  State  as  now,  in  one  of 
those  inimitable  looking  vehicles  known  as  "  prairie 
schooners,"  and  were  four  weeks  on  the  way.  From 
eight  to  ten  hours  now  suffice  for  the  trip  when  made 
behind  a  locomotive. 

Mrs.  Clarke  herself  wields  a  ready  and  clever 
pen.     It  has  long  made  interesting  the  home  de- 


LIVING  OREGON  PIONEERS. 


385 


re 


partment  of  her  husband's  paper,  The  Willamette 
Farmer.  To  a  keen  relish  for  antiquarian  research 
generally,  she  adds  a  distinct  taste  for  Indian  remi- 
niscences. And  the  walls  and  shelves,  nooks  and 
corners  of  her  home  evince  her  industry  in  collecting 
them.  "  I  should  be  glad,"  she  remarked,  "  could 
I  devote  ray  time  for  a  while  to  preserving  the  anti- 
quarian remains  of  this  coast.  Several  localities  are 
rich  in  such  treasures." 

Mrs.  Clarke's  home  is  a  curious  compound  of 
halls,  rooms,  closets,  vestibules,  porches,  and  projec- 
tions. They  moved  into  it,  a  young  married  couple, 
many  years  ago.  It  then  consisted  of  but  two 
rooms.  As  additions  were  needed,  they  were  made 
here  and  there,  until  now,  like  the  characters  in  a 
story,  a  series  of  subordinate  rooms  are  grouped 
around  the  chief  one,  which  is  the  room  with  open 
fireplace,  tall  brass  andirons,  a  center-table,  laden 
with  newspapers,  half-read  and  unread,  and  a  bushel 
basket  filled  with  magazines  and  "exchanges." 


\de 

ver 
de- 


In  a  small  room  of  a  building  on  the  corner  of 
Stark  and  Front  Streets,  in  the  city  of  Portland, 
may  be  seen,  any  day  after  ten  o'clock,  a  lady  seated 
at  a  table  spread  with  scissors,  pencils,  note-book, 
clippings,  and  newspapers.  This  lady  is  Mrs.  C.  A. 
Coburn,  editor-in-chief  of  the  Portland  Daily  Evcn- 
ivf]  T'legram.  The  success  of  this  woman  in  over- 
coming  obstacles  in  life   deserves  to  be  chronicled. 


■  i  1 


'it 


:l.    %- 


38() 


OREGON. 


if  only  to  encourage  other  women  treading  similar 
disheartening  paths. 

Twelve  years  of  Mrs.  Coburn's  life  have  been 
spent  in  journalistic  work  in  an  editorial  capacity, 
and  on  the  staif  of  at  least  three  different  papers. 
At  each  post  she  has  acquitted  herself  nobly,  sever- 
ing her  relations  only  to  improve  her  condition. 
She  is  one  of  the  six  young  girls  of  the  Scott  fam- 
ily, which  emigrated  to  the  Willamette  Valley,  from 
Peoria,  Illinois,  in  1852,  and  is,  therefore,  the  sister 
of  Mrs.  Duniway,  the  founder  of  The  New  North- 
west, and  of  Mr.  W.  H.  Scott,  now  the  editor  of 
The  Oregonian. 

Marrying  at  nineteen,  Mrs.  Coburn  began  wedded 
life  at  Oregon  City,  a  brisk  little  town  on  the  V^'W- 
lamette,  south  of  Portland,  and  formerly  the  Capital 
of  Oregon.  At  twenty-eight  she  was  a  widow,  with 
four  little  daughters  dependent  upon  herself  for 
support.  Not  should  she,  but  how  should  she,  sup- 
port them?  was  the  earnest  question.  Maturely 
considering  the  subject,  she  determined,  as  did  Mrs. 
Duniway  under  circumstances  more  dispiriting,  to 
try  her  ability  for  teaching,  and  at  once  began  qual- 
ifying herself  for  the  work.  Owing  to  the  dearth 
of  educational  advantages  offered  on  the  coast  during 
her  girlhood,  she  had  "  received  but  five  months' 
schooling  since  her  twelfth  year."  Serious  as  was 
the  omission,  she  was  not  daunted  by  it,  but  at  once 
entering  the  University  of  the  Pacific,  in  Washing- 


LIVING  OREGON  PIONEERS. 


387 


ton  County,  she  there  bent  every  energy  toward 
acquiring  knowledge  sufficient  to  obtain  a  certificate 
for  teaching  in  the  State  schools.  This  obtained, 
she  applied  for  the  school  in  the  place  of  hor  resi- 
dence. There  then  existed  in  Oregon  City  an  in- 
tense prejudice  against  the  adoption  of  that  vocation 
by  a  woman. 

"  What  wages  do  you  want?"  inquired  the  school 
director. 

"  Fifty  dollars  a  month,"  was  the  re[)ly. 

"Why!  we  can  get  a  man  for  that!"  he  an- 
swered, looking  at  her  in  amazement. 

The  woman  well  knew  that.  But  having  had 
eight  years'  experience  in  the  care  of  children,  and 
possessing  at  least  the  education  required  by  law  for 
teaching  such  a  school,  she  believed  she  could  dis- 
charge the  duties  of  the  position  as  well,  if  not 
better,  than  any  young  man,  and  ought  therefore  to 
receive  the  same  remuneration.  The  director  mag- 
nanimously offered  her  forty  dt)llars.  She  took  it, 
and  taught  that  school  five  years,  all  the  time  doing 
her  own  domestic  work,  including  the  washing  and 
sewing  for  five,  the  feeding  and  milking  her  cow, 
and  the  sawing  her  daily  supply  of  wood.  In  short, 
she  simply  toiled  day  and  night  for  necessary  food 
and  clothing.  In  progress  of  time,  having  achieved 
genuine  success,  and  the  prejudice  against  her  voca- 
tion being  quite  allayed,  a  salary  of  seventy-five 
d«>llars  was  tendered  her  in  another  district. 


.5      I  i  (.( 


^r 


388 


OREGON. 


r   ^  < 

r 


[^ 


«i ' 


u 


nl. 


Mi 

E,      ■  0    1 


n 


if!' 


i-   rU. 


I 


: 


I 


I    I 


^1 

June,  1873,  witnessed  Mrs.  Coburn's  entrance 
upon  newspaper  life  at  a  compensation  of  fifteen 
dollars  a  week.  And  now,  as  the  editor  of  the  Daily 
Evening  Telegram,  she  receives  the  same  remunera- 
tion a  man  would  have  in  the  position.  "  In  all 
these  years,"  said  she  but  a  few  days  ago,  "  I  have  re- 
ceived not  the  help  of  a  dollar  from  any  one.  My 
daughters  have  all  been  reared  to  habits  of  self- 
siJ])port,  and  as  the  result  of  our  combined  labors 
we  own  a  delightful  little  home  in  East  Portland." 

When  that  Illinois  Scott  family — father,  son,  and 
six  daughters  (it  will  be  remembered  the  mother 
and  younger  son  fell  asleep  on  the  journey) — made 
its  appearance  in  the  Willamette  Valley,  who  could 
have  foretold  what  an  influence  all  its  able,  indus- 
trious, practical,  indomitable  members  would  exert 
upon  Oregon  society  and  history?  P^leven  of  that 
father's  children  and  grandchildren  are  in  the  walks 
of  literature  and  journalism  in  the  State.  Eight 
or  nine  of  them  gain  their  livelihood  from  the 
latter  pursuit. 


XI<I. 
Fl^OM   ©OI^TLAND  IPO   I^UGBT  SOUMD. 


'c 


FLYING  northward  at  the  approach  of  cold 
weather,  is  reversing  the  procedure  of  the  birds. 
But  intelligence  and  instinct  may  differ  in  their 
ciioices.  Moving  southward  with  the  sun,  the  sweet 
songsters  seek  only  their  food  and  comfort,  and  get 
them;  while  I,  by  alighting  down  just  below  the 
forty-ninth  parallel,  at  the  beginning  of  Autumn, 
have  perhaps  planned  for  my  misery.  That  is  to 
say :  By  contriving  to  take  my  experience  of  the 
Pacific  North-west  in  the  rainy  season,  I  not  only 
lose  the  beauty  and  brightness  of  its  Spring-time  and 
Summer,  but  doom  myself  to  live  a  good  share  of 
the  time  under  dripping  clouds,  cumbered,  every 
time  I  step  ojit,  with  umbrella  and  overshoes, 
neither  of  which  things  is  agreeable  to  me.  Nev- 
ertiieless  I  have  determined  to  see  the  Puget  Sound 
country  late  in  the  year.  I  shall  therefore  expect 
to  take  things  as  I  find  them,  omitting  all  fretting. 
Leaving  my  Oregon  work — barely  half  com- 
])leted — to  the  j)ossibilities  of  1886,  on  the  10th  of 
September  I  turned  my  footsteps  toward  the  won- 
derful inland  sea.     In  this  book,  therefore,  in  utter 

hostility  to  facts  geographical,  the  reader  will  find 

389 


m 


m 


^iii 


*  *, 


|. 


!;•. 


i  'i 


390 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


Washington  Territory  sandwiched  between  North- 
ern and  Southern  Oregon.  Begging  pardon  of  all 
Washington  for  employing  (his  mode  of  putting 
.things,  let  me  picture  to  the  reader  what  I  saw  he- t 
tvveen  Portland  and  Tacoma,  the  metropolis  of  the 
Puget  Sound  region.  The  distance,  via  the  Northern 
Pacific  Railway,  is  one  liundred  and  forty-five  miles, 
and  is  accomplished  in  six  and  a  half  hours. 

Emerging  from  thriving,  driving  Portland,  at 
fifteen  minutes  before  niidday,  the  train  speeds 
nearly  northward  down  the  western  bank  of  the 
Willamette,  twelve  miles,  with  the  fair  stream  in 
full  view  on  one  side,  and  precipitous  fir-crowned 
bluffs  on  the  other.  Then  turning  westward,  the 
iron  horse  plows  along  the  southern  brink  of  the 
Columbia  until  oi)posite  'Kalama,  in  Washington. 
Here,  close  by  the  river,  the  creature  stops,  un- 
couples from  the  coaches,  backs  a  few  rods,  glides 
off  on  a  side  track,  and — looks  on.  In  an  instant, 
another  engine  near,  homely  of  nspect,  gigantic  in 
strength,  slowly  approaches  the  train,  from  behind, 
locks  into  the  rear  car,  and  gently  pushes  the  whole 
down  the  bank  and  on  board  a  huge  transfer 
steamer,  pouring  columns  of  dense  black  smoke 
from  its  tall  pipes,  at  the  end  of  the  track. 

On  the  broad  deck  of  the  steamer  three  railways 
are  laid.  The  coaches  gli'l(!  upon  the  middle  one. 
Immediately  the  great  locomotive  disengnges  itself, 
retreats  a  few  feet,  switches  on   to   the   left   track, 


PORTLAND  TO  PUGET  SOUND. 


391 


co::ies  aboard,  and  halts  beside  the  train.  Mean- 
time engine  number  one  has  left  the  side-track  and 
may  be  seen  creeping  down  the   incliire.     Taking 


the  right-hiiiid  rails,  it,  too,  comes  aboard,  flunks  the 
passengcis  on  that  side,  and  stops  brentliing. 

Now  slowly  the  immense  boat  pushes  out  from 


I    I 


392 


WASHING  TON  TERIUTOR  Y. 


I  «< 


I      I 


;1    : 


IH. 


shore,  moves  up,  and  partly  across,  the  broad  river; 
then,  reversing  its  engine,  it  drops  down  to  the 
landing  on  the  Washington  side,  and  adjusts  its 
three  tracks  to  those  of  the  staunch,  sloping  dock 
built  down  the  side  of  the  bank.  Instantly  the 
engine  on  our  right  wakes  up,  rolls  off  the  steamer, 
up  the  steep  grade,  and  gets  out  of  the  way  on  the 
main  road.  This  done,  the  Black  Sampson  starts 
its  wheels,  moves  out  upon  the  dock,  switches  to 
the  middle  trac^k,  backs  on  board  again,  lays  hold 
of  the  conches,  and  pulls  passengers  and  all  up 
the  bank,  with  an  air  which  plainly  says:  "That's 
nothing  for  an  engine  to  do."  Leaving  us  on  the 
main  track,  locomotive  number  one  again  proffers  its 
services,  and  away  we  speed  toward  the  north. 

Thus  was  accomplished  a  small  but  very  interest- 
ing part  of  the  journey.  To  many  of  the  passengers 
the  proceedings  were  entirely  novel,  and  were 
watched  intently  from  the  beginning.  When  in 
midstream  a  fine  view  was  afforded  us,  both  up  and 
down  the  Columbia. 

Since  the  advent  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Road, 
there  have  sprung  up  numerous  small  towns  between 
Kalama  and  Tacoma.  Yet  infantile  in  years,  most 
of  them  are  circled  about  by  forests  of  valuable 
timber.  Those  I  recall  most  readily  are,  Winlock, 
Centralia,  Chehalis,  and  Tenino.  "Fisheries  and 
lumbering  are  the  principal  resources  of  Kalama." 
Between  the  village  and  the  rich  agricultural  region 


-;«i 


Wl,-.',' 


PORTLAND  TO  PUGET  SOUND. 


no3 


lying  back  of  it,  there  intervenes  a  formidable  bluff, 
pinnacled  with  stately  firs.  Still,  being  the  county- 
seat,  interest  is  taken  in  rural  as  well  as  river  aflairs. 

Chehalis  is  the  brisk  capital  of  Lewis  County, 
a  section  of  the  Territory  whose  development  in 
material  wealth  has  been  quite  remarkable.  The 
county  fair  held  in  the  place  annually,  makes  a  fine 
exhibit  of  all  kinds  of  farm  products.  The  fruits 
and  vegetables  rank  in  size  and  quality  with  those 
of  more  famous  districts.  A  commodious  hotel 
gladly  offers  shelter  to  guests  who  come  to  spy  out 
the  land  and  lay  foundations  for  fortunes. 

From  Portland  to  Chehalis  the  seat  in  front  of 
me  was  occupied  by  a  Mrs.  Sheldon  and  her 
daughter,  from  Detroit.  Their  destination  was  the 
"  Lost  Valley  Rancho,"  an  estate  some  seven  hun- 
dred acres  in  extent,  of  which  the  lady,  her  three 
or  four  sons,  and  a  son-in-law  were  the  owners.  It 
lies  interiorly  from  Chehalis  about  fourteen  miles. 
These  young  men,  all  reared  in  Detroit,  had  spent 
some  time  on  the  premises,  hard  at  work,  but  were 
delighted  with  their  new  life,  and  were  sanguine  of 
speedy  wealth.  One  of  them,  Mrs.  Sheldon  said, 
had  spent  three  years  on  the  p'lace,  and  could  in 
nowise  be  persuaded  to  resume  life  in  the  goodly 
City  of  the  Straits. 

Both  ladies  were  about  to  take  up  their  residence 
in  Lost  Valley,  and  though  their  life  was  to  be 
under  a  very   different  condition  of  things,  were 


I 


!" 


'F" 


,  !v 


^ij(;:i 


394 


WASHINOTON  TERRITORY. 


deterniined  to  be  happy.  A  coniniuiiicant  iu  the 
Epiricopal  Chnrch.  Mrs.  Sheldon  was  already  plan- 
ning to  erect  a  little  chapel  npon  her  estate,  in  order 
that  her  neighbors  as  well  as  her  own  family  might 
be  favored  with  sanctuary  i)rivileges,  from  which 
they  were  now  debarred.  As  our  train  drew  up  at 
Chehalis  the  ladies  bade  me  good-bye,  gathered  up 
their  effects,  and  started  down  the  aisle.  Just  then 
a  young  man  leaped  up  the  steps,  met  them  at  the 
door,  loaded  himself  with  their  packages,  and  led 
the  way  to  the  hotel.  He  was  one  of  the  young 
rancheros  of  Lost  Valley. 

Running  on  tlience  to  Tenino,  a  city  with  bound- 
less territory  on  all  sides,  the  conductor  announced 
that  passengers  destined  to  Olympia  would  change 
cars.  That  ceremony  gave  me  opportunity  to  learn 
that  Olympia,  the  capital  of  the  Territory,  is  the 
oldest  town  on  Puget  Sound,  having  been  founded 
about  1845.  A  beautiful  city,  charmingly  situated 
at  the  head  of  Budd's  Inlet,  one  of  the  southern- 
most arms  of  the  magnificent  system  of  water-ways 
penetrating  Western  Washington,  it  has  a  popula- 
tion of  over  three  thousand,  and  is  the  legal  center 
of  Thurston  County,  one  of  the  oldest  and  richest 
subdivisions  of  the  Territory. 

In  1851,  Olympia  was  made  the  port  of  entry 
for  the  "  Customs  District  of  Puget  Sound,"  erected 
that  year,  all  this  region  being  then  a  part  of  Ore- 
gon.    When  the  Territory  was  established — Act  of 


mh 


PORTLAND  TO  PUGET  SOUND. 


395 


Congress,  March  2,  1853 — Olympia  was  made  the 
capital,  and  ^till  retains  tlie  honor,  notwithstand- 
ing its  locatl'.a  on  the  extreme  western  border  of 
the  Territory. 

Thurston  County  is  distinguished  for  numerous 
advantages.  Taking  its  large  area  of  arable  land, 
its  fine  streams  and  lakes,  full  of  splendid  fish  and 
abounding  in  water-fowl,  its  heavily  wooded  hills, 
whence  come  vast  quantities  of  valuable  lumber, 
and  the  very  paradise  of  sportsmen,  on  account  of 
their  plentiful  game,  its  rich  soil,  out  of  which 
spring  cereals  and  vegetables  that  few  lands  of  the 
globe  can  excel,  and  its  multitude  of  useful  springs, 
with  its  agreeable  climate  most  of  the  year,  and 
you  have  a  section  about  as  inviting  as  man  can 
ask  for. 

From  Tenino  we  sped  along  through  miles  of 
dark  pines  and  firs,  and  across  extensive  natural 
parks,  set  with  evergreens  in  all  manner  of  group- 
ings, and  spread  with  a  beautiful,  closely  cropped 
turf;  and  over  wide,  desolate  expanses,  the  soil  of 
which  was  so  indigent  as  barely  to  aiford  sustenance 
for  the  sheep  grazing  upon  them.  Finally,  the 
night  drawing  on,  we  rolled  up  to  "  Pacific  Avenue 
Station,"  in  the  western  terminus  of  the  Northern 
Pacific  Railway,  and  fifteen  minutes  later  were  set 
down  at  the  entrance  of  the  "  Tacoma,"  an  t  legant 
hotel,  built  of  mingled  brick  and  stone,  in  the 
Queen  Anne  and  Norman-French  style,  and  in   its 


t   ' 


'111 


IF 


,  I 


I 


. 


« 


(f 


♦ri 


tT| 


»l 


1 1 


nno 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


appointments  scarcely  surpassed  by  the  famous  Del 
Monte,  at  Monterey. 

The  Taconia  occupies  a  sightly  position  on  Cliff 
Avenue,  skirting  Commencement  Bay — the  arm  of 
Puget  Sound  on  which  the  city  of  Tacoma  stands, 
in  full  view  from  the  hotel.  It  adds  another  to  the 
richly  appointed  caravansaries  of  the  Pacific  Coast, 
and  the  views  it  commands  of  the  Sound,  the  Puy- 
allup  Valley,  and  Mount  Tacoma,  Washington's 
grandest  snow-cone,  are  strong  inducements  for 
seeking  its  inviting  quarters. 

Providentially  there  opened  to  me  next  day  a 
delightful  home,  whose  head  has  spent  thirty-two 
years  in  Western  Washington,  and  to  whom  are  as 
familiar  as  the  alphabet,  its  mountains,  streams,  re- 
sources, Indian  tribes,  and  changeful  history.  Mr. 
Van  Ogle  is  a  native  of  Adams  County,  Ohio,  and 
within  the  grand  old  State  yet  reside  quite  a  num- 
ber of  his  relatives.  In  this  region  ids  name  is 
everywhere  a  synonym  for  kindness  and  hospitality. 
As  a  memento  of  his  distant  home,  he  sometimes 
exhibits  a  buckeye,  which  he  plucked  from  one  of 
those  beautifid  trees  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  for 
the  then  wild  West. 

One  would  hardly  expect  to  find  in  this  far-away 
corner  of  our  land  an  old  and  rare  work  of  art. 
But  passing  the  parlor  door  a  few  moments  ago,  my 
attention  was  called  to  a  portrait  of  Miss  Frances 
Jennings,  the  duchess  of  Tyrconnel,  and  a  sister  of 


^■••IJl'" 


PORTLAND  TO  PVGET  SOUND. 


397 


rt. 
kes 


the  duchess  of  Marlborough,  who  figured  at  court 
in  the  reign  of  James  the  Second.  ]  liss  Jennings 
shone  as  ii  favorite  of  the  duciiess  of  York  about 
16G4.  History  describes  her  as  having  "the  fairest 
complexion  that  ever  was  seen,  beautiful  flaxen  hair, 
a  turn  of  t)>n  face  that  was  exquisitely  fine,  while 
she*  was  unaffected  in  manners,  full  of  wit,  and  cap- 
tivating in  conversation."  The  portrait  was  painted 
by  the  celebrated  artist.  Sir  Peter  Lely,  who  in  1641 
went  over  to  England  from  Westphalia  to  jjursue 
his  art.  The  work  was  brought  to  America  by  my 
excellent  hostess,  herself  a  countrywoman  of  Miss 
Jennings's.  At  one  time  a  gentleman,  who  was  com- 
missioned by  Mr.  A.  T.  Stewart  to  add  to  his  col- 
lection of  paintings,  paid  a  visit  to  Iowa,  then  the 
home  of  Mrs.  Van  Ogle,  in  the  hope  of  securing 
the  relic,  but  the  two  thousand  five  hundred  dollars 
he  offered  for  the  treasure  failed  to  secure  it. 

84 


ltl 


m 


'  Mi 
\  ill 


m 


1     i 


t:5 


mi 


XI<II. 
She  Gi^BAJP  Inland  Sea. 


TO  most  readers  who  have  not  visit?d  the  North- 
west Coast,  the  words  "  Piiget  Sound  "  convey 
but  a  faint  idea  of  what  is  really  included  in  the 
term.  Exactly  where  lies  the  wonderful  system  of 
waters,  what  sort  of  people  inhabit  its  shores, 
whether  it  belongs  to  Great  Britain  or  the  United 
States,  and  whether  it  is  in  any  way  particularly 
important,  are  all  matters  about  which  the  most 
confused  notions  prevail  in  the  minds  of  thousands 
of  intelligent  people.  And  with  good  reason.  Until 
now,  opportunity  to  cross  the  continent  directly  to 
this  point  has  not  oifered  every  day  in  the  year.  Nor 
as  yet  has  all  the  nation  accepted  the  opportunity. 

A  gentleman  for  many  years  resident  in  the 
vicinity  of  Piigct  Sound  tells  me  that  when  in  New 
York  three  years  ago  he  one  day  entered  a  fash- 
ionable restaurant  to  procure  a  luncheon.  At  a 
table  near  him  were  seated  two  wide-awake  business 
men.  Presently  one  inquired  of  the  other,  evi- 
dently through  interest  in  the  Northern  Pacific 
Railway,  a  subject  then  rife  all  over  the  country: 

"What  knowledge   have  you  of  Puget   Sound 

and  that  part  of  the  country?" 
398 


** 


THE  GREAT  INLAND  SEA. 


399 


"I  confess  I  know  very  little," he  replied.  "All 
that  part  of  the  coast  is  a  terra  incognita  to   me." 

The  two  talked  on,  so  evidently  iu  geographical 
darkness,  that  the  Western  man,  with  the  kindly 
spirit  so  characteristic  of  the  people  of  the  Pacific 
Co^-^-t,  finally  said: 

"  Gentlemen,  I  have  lived  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Puget  Sound  nearly  a  third  of  a  century,  and 
should  be  pleased  to  furnish  you  any  information 
concerning  the  region." 

So  elsewhere  throughout  his  travels  did  he  find 
it.  Possibly  I  may  be  able  in  this  chapter  to  so 
describe  this  remarkable  ramification  of  waters  that 
the  reader  will  obtain  a  clear  apprehension  of  the 
system. 

General  usage  groups  under  the  term  Puget 
Sound  the  following  bodies  of  water,  beginning  at 
the  ocean,  and  proceeding  inland,  first  eastward  a 
hundred  miles  and  more,  then  southward  about  the 
same  distance :  The  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  Belling- 
ham  Bay,  Admiralty  Inlet,  Hood's  Canal,  Com- 
mence raent  Bay,  a  short,  deep  passage  called  The 
Narrows,  and  three  long,  narrow  inlets — all,  I  be- 
lieve, penetrating  Thurston  County,  and  forming  the 
head  of  the  Sound  system. 

To  the  easternmost  of  these  inlets  was  originally 
given  the  name  Puget  Sound,  in  compliment  to 
Lieutenant  Puget,  an  officer  of  the  expedition  sent 
out  from  England  under  Captain  George  Vancouver, 


m 


i,»  ■.  i 


■  •;!  ■ 


<:■ 


400 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


in  1791,  on  "a  voyage  of  discovery  to  the  North 
Pacific  Oceau." 

Lieutenant  Puget,  in  command  of  a  party  de- 
tailed by  Vancouver,  explored  and  surveyed  these 
head-waters  of  the  Sound.  Returning  to  their 
ship,  The  Discovery,  Vancouver  graciously  affixed 
his  subordinate's  name  to  the  crescent-shaped  ar- 
tery, which  to-day  on  all  large  maps  of  Western 
Washington  is  designated  as  Puget  Sound.  But,  in 
1851,  when  the  Government  set  up  this  customs 
district,  making  Olympia,  on  Budd's  Inlet,  the  port 
of  entry,  it  was  called  the  "  Customs  District  of 
Puget  Sound."  Thus  was  the  cognomen  in  time 
applied  to  the  whole  grand  series  of  waters.  And 
siibsequently  when  Port  Townsend,  practically  on 
the  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  became  the  customs 
port,  the  name  remained  unchanged.  Let  me  now 
try  to  sketch  these  principal  divisions  of  Puget  Sound 
under  this  broader  application  of  the  term. 

Between  Cape  Flattery,  a  sharp,  projecting  point 
of  Washington  Territory,  and  Cape  Bonilla,  on  Van- 
couver Island,  the  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca  breaks 
inland  from  the  Pacific.  This  grand  passage  ex- 
tends due  eastward  between  the  Island  of  Vancouver 
and  Washington  Territory  ninety-five  miles — mid- 
channel  distance,  eighty-three  miles — when  it  is  con- 
fronted by  Whidby  Island,  the  largest  one  in  the 
Sound's  collection,  and  so  called  by  Vancouver,  in 
honor  of  another  lieutenant  of  TTie  Discovery.     For 


M^ 


THE  GREAT  INLAND  SEA. 


401 


a  distance  of  forty  miles  from  the  ocean  the  uni- 
form width  of  the  Strait  is  twelve  miles.  Opposite 
Bcachy  Head  it  contracts  to  eight  miles,  and  again 
expands,  until,  at  the  point  where  it  receives  from 
the  north  the  waters  of  the  broad  Canal  de  Haro, 
of  the  Strait  of  Rosario,  and  of  the  noble  Gulf  of 
Georgia — itself  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  long 
by  twenty  wide — and  from  the  south,  those  of  splen- 
did Admiralty  Inlet  and  Hood's  Canal,  with  their 
many  deep  bays  and  inlets,  it  attains  a  breadth  of 
from  twenty  to  forty  miles. 

In  the  deepest  portions  of  the  Strait  no  bottom 
has  been  found  with  a  line  one  hundred  and  fifty 
fathoms  long.  Professor  George  Davidson  states 
that  "its  current  flows  with  an  average  velocity  of 
three  miles  an  hour,  except  off  Boachy  Head,  wliere 
its  momentum  is  doubled."  The  mean  rise  and  fall 
of  the  tide  in  the  passage  is  sixteen  feet.  Heavy 
timber  and  close  underbrush  clothe  its  shores,  which, 
on  the  Vancouver  side  especially,  rise  abruptly  into 
mountains  several  hundred  feet  high.  From  "any- 
where on  the  strait  can  be  seen  the  majestic  snow- 
cones  Mount  Baker  and  Mount  Tacoma." 

Next  in  importance  follows  Admiralty  Inlet, 
named  out  of  respect  to  the  English  Board  of  Ad- 
miralty. It  is  simply  a  magnificent  canal,  sixty  miles 
long  and  three  and  a  half  miles  wide.  Branching 
off  from  the  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  it  extends 
south-easterly  to  Vashan  Island,  where  it  divides 


n 


m 


i 
I 

'I 

I 
\' 

!  ! 


402 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


into  Commencement  Bay — at  the  head  of  which 
flourishes  the  city  of  Tacoma — and  the  swift  Nar- 
rows, through  which  is  readied  Oyhiipia  and  its  inlets. 

Sixteen  miles  south  of  the  Strait  of  Juan  de 
Fuca,  Admiralty  iiilet  throws  off  Hood's  Canal  to 
the  south-west,  with  a  length  of  sixty  miles  and  a 
width  of  one  and  a  half  miles.  Together,  Hood's 
Canal,  Admiralty  Inlet,  and  the  three  head-water 
inlets  mentioned,  have  a  shore-line  of  over  eight 
hundred  miles,  mostly  fringed  with  stately  timber, 
or  covered  with  a  dense  undergrowth. 

Twenty-five  miles  from  the  Strait  of  Juan  de 
Fuca,  Admiralty  Inlet  sends  out  toward  the  north- 
east another  vast  arm  fifty-five  miles  long.  East 
of  Whidby  Island  this  subdivides  into  Saratoga 
Passage,  Susan's  and  Gardner's  Bays,  all  consider- 
able bodies  of  water.  Their  shores,  like  those  of 
Whidby  Island,  rise  into  bold  bluffs  from  fifty  to  five 
hundred  feet  high,  and  have  their  crests  crowned  with 
valuable  timber.  The  average  depth  of  these  grand 
inner  seas  is  one  hundred  fathoms.  Small  settle- 
ments dot  their  shores.    Good  harbors  are  numerous. 

By  those  who  have  had  good  opportunity  to 
judge,  this  network  of  water-ways  is  considered  un- 
surpassed by  any  other  inland  system  on  the  globe; 
especially  if  we  take  into  account  its  extent,  depth, 
beauty,  and  the  multiplied  advantages  oiFered  by 
its  island  and  main-land  shores  for  all  kinds  of  agri- 
cultural and  commercial  purposes. 


THE  GREAT  INLAND  SEA. 


403 


In  a  recent  report  upon  the  Territory  to  the 
Secretary  of  the  Interior,  Governor  Squire  says: 
"Puget  Sound  embraces  a  surface  of  about  six  thou- 
sand square  miles,  a  total  coast-line  of  over  fifteen 
hundred  miles,  and  extends  from  the  ocean  two 
hundred  miles.  Neither  in  the  Strait  of  Juan  de 
Fuca,  Admiralty  Inlet,  nor  Hood's  Canal,  does  a 
shoal  exist  which  can  in  any  way  interrupt  their 
navigation  by  a  seventy-four-gun  ship;  while  the 
shores  of  the  bays,  ports,  and  inlets  are  so  re- 
markably bold  that  a  vessel's  side  would  strike  the 
shore  before  her  keel  would  touch  the  bottom." 
With  phraseology  slightly  different,  Professor  Da- 
vidson bears  the  same  testimony,  and  adds:  "An 
innumerable  sea  of  gigantic  timber  comes  down  to 
their  very  shores." 

In  these  deep  waters  are  represented  all  the 
finny  and  shell  tribes  of  the  ocean.  Halibut — no 
better  can  be  caught — heads  the  list.  Then  fol- 
low sturgeon,  salmon,  turbot,  flounders,  codfish — 
notably  abundant  off  Cape  Flattery — soles,  smelt, 
oysters,  clams,  and  herring,  a  fine  species,  and 
many  others. 

The  chief  towns  of  the  Sound  are:  Olyrapia, 
Taconia,  Seattle — the  two  last  having  each  about 
twelve  thousand  inhabitants — and  Port  Townsend. 
Tacoma  and  Seattle  are  rival  communities,  both 
striving  for  the  supremacy.  Of  the  former,  mention 
will  be  made  in  another  chapter.     The  latter  lies 


'  >i 


I   ¥1 


'      •  5ft 


5  J 


I 


404' 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


on  Admiralty  Inlet,  about  thirty-six  miles  north  of 
Tacoma,  and  possesses  almost  exhaustless  resources 
in  coal,  timber,  and  fertile  soil.  It  has  rich  shops 
and  stores,  for  a  place  of  its  size,  schools  and 
churches,  and  excellent  society. 

The  islands  of  the  Sound  contribute  much  to  the 
picturesqueness  of  its  scenery.  On  some  exist  fine 
quarries  of  lime  and  building  stone.  Others  are 
inhabited  by  either  herdsmen,  lumbermen,  fishc- 
men,  or  farmers. 

A  moment  now  to  the  history  of  the  Strait  of 
Juan  de  Fuca.  Tradition  asserts  that  the  first  sea- 
man who  entered  the  splendid  channel,  was  a  hardy 
Greek  navigator  of  that  name,  his  visit  taking  place 
in  1592,  two  hundred  years  before  Vancouver  in- 
vaded the  entire  group  of  waters.  John  de  Fuca's 
claim  to  the  distinction  rests  upon  mere  oral  tradi- 
tion. But  what  matters  that?  His  name  will 
attach  to  the  Strait  for  all  time.  Between  1787  and 
1792,  the  date  of  Vancouver's  exploration,  several 
parties  ventured  inside  the  great  Strait,  one  or  two 
penetrating  it  a  distance  of  fifty  miles.  Of  the 
latter  was  Captain  Robert  Gray,  of  Boston,  whose 
name  has  passed  into  history  as  the  discoverer  of 
the  Columbia  River,  May,  1792,  and  to  which  he 
gave  the  name  of  his  ship  "the  Columbia."  He 
also  discovered  the  spacious  harbor  on  the  coast  of 
Washington,  which  now  bears  his  name,  apj^lied  to 
it,   however,   not    by    himself,    but    by    Lieutenant 


THE  GREAT  INLAND  SEA. 


405 


Whidhy,    who    subsequently    surveyed    the    noble 
haven,  under  Vancouver. 

It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  these  two  captains 
were  on  the  North  Pacific  Coast  at  the  same  time. 
Indeed,  they  actually  met  on  the  wide  main,  and 
exchanged  maritime  courtesies,  though  neither, 
probably,  regarded  the  other  with  the  most  amicable 
feeling.  The  meeting  occurred  off  the  Washington 
Coast,  in  April  preceding  Gray's  entrance  into  the 
Columbia.  Gray  was  returning  from  a  cruise  to  the 
North.  The  Discovery,  accompanied  by  her  tender, 
The  Chatham,  was  plowing  along  in  that  direction. 
When  about  sixty  miles  south  of  the  entrance  to 
the  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  her  captain  espied  a 
sail.  This  was  a  great  novelty.  Eight  months  had 
he  traversed  the  seas,  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  not 
a  single  craft.  So,  upon  hearing  a  gun  fired  to 
leeward,  and  seeing  the  American  colors  run  up 
by  the  stranger,  he  accosted  him,  and  inquired: 
**  Who  are  you?"  Gray  responded.  Whereupon 
Vancouver  surmised  that  he  had  encountered  the 
very  Captain  Gray  who  was  reputed  to  have  "sailed 
through  the  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca,"  a  passage  of 
water  for  which  the  Englishman  was  then  anxiously 
searching,  and  he  politely  requested  the  American 
to  "  bring  to."  Captain  Gray  complying,  Lieuten- 
ant Puget,  with  another  officer,  was  dispatched  to 
The  Columbia,  to  solicit  such  information  as  would 

promote  the  English  expedition.    The  officers  found 

36 


111 


•i 


fl, 


i\*\ 


40G 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


the  commander  of  The  Columbia  very  courteous,  but 
much  surprised  to  learn  that  he  had  "  explored  the 
Strait  of  Fuca." 

The  interview  over,  the  vessels  passed  on  their 
ways,  and  on  April  29th,  the  British  ships  came  to 
anchor  eight  miles  inside  the  imperial  passage.  The 
succeeding  two  months  were  spent  by  their  officers 
in  taking  observations  and  making  surveys,  in  yawl, 
cutter,  and  launch,  of  the  ports,  bays,  straits,  chan- 
nels, and  inlets,  to-day  coiDposing  Puget  Sound. 
That  work  completed,  they  pushed  on  northward, 
exploring  the  An;hipelugo  de  Haro,  and  the  Gulf 
of  Georgia,  ail  along  naming  most  of  the  land- 
points  and  bodies  of  water. 

Captain  Vancouver  was  as  much  master  of  his 
pen,  as  of  his  ship,  and  of  some  of  the  scenes  he 
saw,  writes  as  follows — quite  in  the  style  of  the 
sentimental  novelist : 

"To  describe  the  beauties  of  this  region  will,  in 
some  future  day,  be  a  very  grateful  task  for  the 
skillful  panegyrist.  The  serenity  of  the  climate, 
the  innumerable  pleasing  landscapes,  and  the  abun- 
dant fertility  that  unassisted  nature  puts  forth,  need 
only  to  be  enriched — by  the  industry  of  man — with 
villages,  mansions,  and  cottages,  to  render  it  the 
most  lovely  land  that  can  be  imagined." 

Of  the  forests  lie  says :  "  These  did  not  conceal 
the  face  of  the  country,  but  pleasantly  clothed  its 
eminences   and    checkered    its    valleys,    presenting 


THE  GREAT  INLAND  SEA. 


407 


vast  spaces  that  wore  the  appearance  of  having  been 
cleared  by  art,  as  did  one  of  the  beautiful  islands 
we  visited.  The  picture  could  not  fail  to  call  to 
mind  certain  delightful  and  beloved  situations  in 
Old  England." 

In  this  same  vein  does  the  busy  captain  devote 
page  after  page  to  discourse  upon  "  the  salubrity  of 
the  climate  and  the  kindly  disposed  Indian  tribes." 
He  looked  upon  these  scenes  ninety-four  years  ago. 
The  same  park-like  meadows  are  the  pride  of  the 
region  to-day.  The  same  healthful  climate  is  en- 
joyed. The  soil  still  brings  forth  marvelously. 
Foot-hill  and  mountain  teem  with  mineral  wealth; 
and  over  the  hills  and  valleys  yet  roam  the 
"peaceable  Indians,"  their  admiration  for  the  white 
man,  albeit,  decidedly  abated,  as  is  that  of  the  white 
man  for  them. 


•3, 


I'J 


l'<  >' 


m 


W: 


■if 


W  111 


i  M 


4 


XI<III. 
SUI^NING  ©I^BES   INTO   CQONEY. 


THAT  part  of  Wnshington  Territory  lying  be- 
tween the  Cascade  Range  and  Puget  Sound  is 
as  remarkable  for  its  forests  as  is  Kansas  for  its 
plains,  or  Arizona  for  its  desert.  Go  where  one 
will,  trees  encompass  him — trees  taller,  more  erect, 
of  greater  diameter,  and  nearer  together,  than  Maine 
or  Michigan  ever  grew  them.  Stand  on  this  hill- 
top, and  look  around  you,  into  the  distance.  The 
horizon  is  not  where  the  land  and  sky  seem  to 
meet,  but  where  the  feathery  tops  of  the  fir,  spruce, 
cedar,  and  hemlock,  touch  the  blue.  I  look  upon 
these  forests,  and  my  love  of  country  is  kindled. 
Not  to  take  an  interest  in  the  timber  question,  on 
Puget  Sound,  is  to  be  unpatriotic.  Every  tree  is  a 
mine  of  money,  enhancing  the  riches  of  the  world. 
It  is  a  certain  amount  of  the  real  wealth  of  the 
Union,  as  is  every  ton  of  coal,  every  nugget  of 
gold,  every  bushel  of  wheat,  every  fleece  on  a 
sheep's  back.  I  presume  there  is  not  a  settlement 
west  of  the  Cascade  Range  which  is  not  thrown  into 
relief,  by  a  background  of  needle-like  spires,  mar- 
shaled in  almost  solid  ranks. 
408 


TURNING  TREES  INTO  MONEY. 


409 


In  Washington  Territoiy  there  are  twenty  mill- 
ions of  acres  clothed  with  giant  trees,  tliousands  of 
which  have  been  growing  from  one  to  two  centuries. 
Watson  C  Squire,  the  present  Executive  of  the  Ter- 
ritory, says:  "It  is  estimated  that  on  these  acres 
stand  four  hundred  billion  feet  of  merchantable  lum- 
ber, chiefly  growing  on  the  western  side  of  the 
Cascade  Range."  The  reader  will  naturally  ask : 
"  What  is  doing  with  all  this  vast  body  of  tim- 
ber?" There  are  several  answers  to  the  question. 
Millions  of  feet  are  annually  destroyed  by  forest 
fires,  which  sometimes  burn  for  weeks  in  succession. 
Again,  acres  of  trees  are  consumed  every  year,  in 
order  to  clear  the  land  for  homes  and  agricultural 
purposes.  Finally,  they  furnish  material  for  the 
leading  industry  of  Western  Washington — the  man- 
ufacture of  lumber.  And  this  brings  me  to  the 
purpose  of  this  chapter,  namely :  The  describing 
one  of  the  mammoth  saw-mills  of  Puget  Sound, 
and  its  various  accessories. 

The  property  of  the  "Tacoma  Mill  Company," 
is  located  on  the  southern  shore  of  Commencement 
Bay,  in  the  outskirts  of  Old  Tacoma,  two  miles  west 
of  Tacoma  proper.  It  consists  of  the  great  mill 
itself;  a  large  store,  stocked  with  general  merchan- 
dise and  articles  of  ship-chandlery,  for  the  refitting 
of  vessels  engaged  in  the  trade;  a  wharf,  with  eight 
hundred  feet  of  frontage,  at  which  lumber-vessels 
and  merchantmen  receive  and  discharge  their  car- 


m 


1' .  » 


11'! 
H' 


lit? 


1 


I  u 


■..Ml  I 


H    % 


TURNING  TREES  INTO  MONEY. 


411 


V\' 

1 
1 

li-  ",■ 

(< 

f\  '\\\  \ 

1|) 

|;-,l   '1; 

F-« 

m 

(! 

nJl  ' ^ 

■*' 

if,  1'  . 

H\ 

1  '  / 

V, 

t  '/ 

y. 

1  / 

ra 

/ 

0) 

/ 

■^ 

I-« 

; 

l"i" 

y,i' 

i' 

.  1'  1 

/  n 

^  1' 

o 

<!l  ' 

(rt 

i::'/i',-J 

H 

ml 

-X 

Ml 

■M 

j.i'.l 

1'   ! 

<i) 

'    1 

^1 

I 

', 

►  ] 

1' 
1 
1 

goes;  Ji  lai'fie  hoarding-house,  which  furnishes  meals 
and  lodging  to  niinihers  of  single  men  eniployed  hy 
the  firm;  some  twenty  or  more  comfortahle  eoltages 
for  the  families  of  married  laborers,  on  tin;  prem- 
ises; a  square,  tower-like  structure,  huilt  of  brick, 
for  consuming  rejected  material  from  the  mill ;  a 
miniature  lake,  about  four  acres  in  extent,  for  sup- 
plying the  mill  with  water,  and  the  offices  of  the 
company. 

The  mill  was  erected  in  1868,  with  a  capacity 
for  cutting  thirty  thousand  feet  of  lumber  per  day. 
Its  power  has  since  been  increased  until  its  present 
output  per  day  is  the  enormous  quantity  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  feet.  The  establishment 
turns  out  all  sizes  of  lumber,  from  a  strip  one  inch 
l)y  two  to  material  twenty-two  inches  by  twenty- 
four,  and  varying  in  length  from  ten  to  one  hun- 
dred and  ten  feet,  and,  if  occasion  demands,  a  much 
greater  length.  In  one  instance  it  has  furnished  a 
ship's  keel  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  feet  long. 
Spars,  laths,  and  pickets  are  manufactured  in  almost 
unlimited  quantity.  The  total  product  of  the  mill 
last  year  was  fifty  million  feet  of  lumber,  eighteen 
million  {^^i  of  lath,  many  hundred  thousand  pickets 
and  wool-slats,  and  six  hundred  spars.  Employ- 
ment is  given  to  two  hundred  and  sixty  men. 

In  full  operation,  the  mill  presents  a  sight  never 
to  be  forgotten.  Doul)le  throughout,  equipped  with 
the  most  approved  machinery,  it  docs  the  work  of 


i'  '\ 


I    f 


:  ! 


He 
•if 


V, 


t 


-:  \\ 


W 


iii: 


412 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


two  powerful  single  mills.  Each  mill  can  take  in 
hand  a  gigantic  log — say  diameter  eight  feet,  length 
thirty  feet — and  suhjecting  it  to  the  keen-edged, 
donhle  circular  saws,  in  ten  minutes  reduce  it  to 
dimensions  adapted  to  the  re-saw.  The  enormous 
log  fairly  melts  away  before  one's  eyes.  The  power 
ajiplied  is  simply  prodigious. 

"  Fifteen  years  ago,"  remarked  a  gentlemen 
Avatching  the  proceedings,  "  it  required  as  mucii 
time  to  manufacture  forty  thousand  feet  of  lumber 
as  it  now  does  to  cut  one  hundred  thousand  feet." 
That  was  saying  very  little.  The  mill  of  whicii  we 
are  speaking  now  cuts  daily  eight  and  one-third  times 
more  lumber  than  when  erected  sixteen  years  ago. 

The  complete  outfit  of  the  mill,  in  the  way  of 
machinery,  is  five  engines,  twelv^e  boilers,  two  double 
circular  saws,  two  gangs,  of  thirty  saws  each,  one 
re-saw,  two  lath-making  and  three  slab-cutting  ma- 
chines, one  rob-edger  for  cutting  scantling  and  edg- 
ing lumber,  and  four  elevators  used  in  conveying 
the  sawdust  to  the  top  story,  whence,  falling  into  the 
furnaces,  it  produces  the  steam  which  drives  every 
particle  of  the  machinery. 

The  time  consumed  from  th^  moment  a  piece 
of  timber  forty  feet  long  enters  one  of  the  gang 
saws  until  it  h  ready  for  market,  is  three  minutes. 
From  three  to  four  logs  at  a  time  are  usually  drawn 
out  of  the  water  into  the  mill. 

Foreign  ships  from  all  parts  of  the  globe   take 


^ 


TURNING  TREES  INTO  MONEY. 


413 


on  cargoes  of  lumber  at  the  great  clock.  The  most 
frequent  destinations  are  China,  Japan,  Australia, 
the  Snndvvich  Islands,  and  other  Pacifio  groups, 
besides  special  ports  on  the  western  coast  of  South 
America,  and  Motevideo,  in  Uruguay.  Numerous 
cargoes  go  to  New  York  and  Boston  Yesterday  a 
ship  was  loaded  with  spars,  planking,  and  decking 
for  the  latter  port.  An  average  of  eight  vessels 
per  month  are  freighted  at  the  company's  wharf. 
The  ordinary  capacity  of  lumber  vessels  is  fro.n  five 
to  six  thousand  feet.  But  occasionally  a  ship  clears 
with  a  cargo  of  one  and  a  half  million  feot.  In 
addition  to  this  distant  traffic,  the  mill  drives  a 
brisk  business  with  our  own  Pacific  Coast.  For  this 
home  commerce  the  company  owns  a  fleet  of  four 
ves&els.  These  transport  lumber  as  far  south  as 
San  Pedro,  in  Southern  California. 

Another  important  portion  of  its  marine  prop- 
erty is  its  tug-brat;  the  most  powerful  one  in  the 
Sound  service,  ihis  homely  craft  not  only  tows 
lumber-vessels  to  and  from  Cape  Flattery — just  in- 
side the  Strait  .>f  Juan  de  Fuca — but  does  the  log- 
towing  for  the  mammoth  mill.  Not  infrequently  it 
draws,  from  a  station  near  some  camp,  a  boom  of 
logs  comprising  from  two  to  two  and  a  half  million 
feet  of  lumber. 

It  is  here  pertinent  to  remark  that  this  fine  mill, 
with  all  its  splendid  machinery  capable  of  such 
lightning-like  oxccutinu,  is  of  littl'*  value  without 


1  "i 


m 


(J 


"..'  i« 


'i'. 


!f 


iil: 


ft^ 


i     'i 


414 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


something  to  smv.  To  produce  flour,  wheat  must 
be  harvested.  So,  to  make  himber,  trees  must  be 
felled  in  the  forest.  Aware  of  this,  and  having 
seen  how  great  execution  this  mill  is  capable  of  in 
one  day,  we  are  not  surprised  to  learn, that  in  order 
to  keep  it  steadily  running,  fifteen  or  more  logging 
camps,  aggregating  five  hundred  men,  are  main- 
tained in  the  forests.  These  lodges  are  scattered  all 
through  the  densely  timbered  land  of  the  Sound, 
from  the  city  of  Olympia  on  the  south  to  the  bor- 
ders of  the  Snohomish  and  Skagit  rivers  on  the 
north,  including  territory  on  Fidalgo  Islaii  1  and 
along  Hood's  Canal.  ISIen  of  every  nation  bear  a 
hand  in  the  arduous  work  of  harvesting  the  trees. 
Authority  is  silent  as  to  how  many  of  them  chop 
fortunes  for  themselves  out  of  the  forests;  but  i 
venture  to  say,  that  like  most  of  the  salmon-fishers 
of  the  Columbia,  the  majority  gain  but  a  precarious 
livelihood. 

The  tiny  hamlet,  in  the  foreground  of  which 
stand  the  mill  and  its  companion,  the  store,  is  known 
among  lumbermen  as  the  "  Mill  Town,"  because 
occupied  exclusively  with  the  boarding  and  dwelling 
houses  of  the  employees.  The  premises  embrace 
twenty-eight  acres. 

Since  darkness  sets  in,  in  this  latitude,  before 
five  o'clock  in  Winter,  work  in  the  mill  continues 
long  after  candle-lighting.  To  facilitate  this  tiio 
building  is  lighted  by  electricity. 


:it   must 
mist  bo 
liaviiif^ 
le  of  in 
ill  order 
ogging 
|e   nuiiii- 
ered  all 
Sound, 
he  bor- 
on   the 
III   and 
bear  a 
le  trees, 
m  chop 
i;  but  i 
i-fi.shers  ♦ 
ecarions 

which 
3  known 
because 
I  we]  ling 
!ni  brace 

,  before 
intinues 
liis  til 3 


CO 
O 

m 
•-1 


n 
>-i 


I" 


'if 


'til 


iv: 


416 


WASHING  TON  TER  HIT  DRY. 


I  have  described  this  mill  thus  particularly,  be- 
cause it  is  a  specimen  of  its  class.  Eight  or  nine 
others  of  little  less  capacity  are  operating  on  the 
Sound,  besides  numbers  of  smaller  dimensions. 
Others  .Tre  running  in  the  mountains,  sending  forth 
their  pri    i  o  the  railways,  or  water-courses,  in 

long  flumes  .  -.  down  the  sides  of  the  mountains. 
The  witnessing  the  escape  of  the  lumber  from  one 
of  these  inclined  tubes  is  an  interesting  and  exciting 
experience.  It  comes  rushing  down  from  an  un- 
known source,  oftentimes  so  distant  that  the  hum 
of  the  mill  which  manufactures  it  can  not  be  heard. 
Out  it  leaps  from  the  mouth  of  the  flume  like  a 
thing  of  life,  having  accompli.shed  a  journey  of  five 
miles  perhaps.  The  success  with  which  the  thing 
is  done  is  amazing. 

The  famous  timber-belt  of  Washington  Terri- 
tory extends  fron.  the  Columbia  River  north,  to 
British  Columbia;  from  the  Cascade  Mountains 
west,  to  the  Paciflo;  and,  it  is  claimed,  has  no  rival 
in  the  world.  Its  chief  growths  are:  fir,  three  va- 
rieties— cedar,  spruce,  larch,  and  hemlock.  Existing 
in  varying  quantities,  are:  ash,  alder,  white  oak, 
curled  maple,  and  cottonwood.  Red  fir  abounds, 
and  is  the  most  valuable  for  general  building  pur- 
poses. Its  habitat  is  the  light  gravelly  soil  hem- 
ming the  Sound  to  some  distance  back.  The  yellow 
fir  is  at  home  on  the  foot-hills,  and  attains  an  aston- 
ishing size  and  height.     A   diameter  of  six,  eight, 


TURNTNG  TREES  INTO  MONEY. 


417 


and  ten  feet,  with  an  altitude  of  two  and  three  hun- 
dred feet,  is  by  no  means  unusual.  The  cedar  also 
acquires  gigrntic  dimensions.  Not  infrequeutly 
single  trees  yield  eight  and  ten  thousand  feet  of 
serviceable  lumber.  A  gentleman  tells  me  that  he 
once  obtained  "fifteen  rail-cuts,"  each  ten  feet  long, 
from  one  of  these  notable  cedars,  and  from  them 
split  five  hundred  and  twenty-five  rails,  leaving,  at 
the  final  cutting,  a  very  considerable  top,  twenty- 
three  Indies  in  diameter. 

The  Washington  red  cedar — not  identical  with 
the  red  cedar  of  the  East — reaches  its  best  estate  in 
moist  situations  remote  from  the  salt  water.  Being 
easily  worked,  the  cedar,  spruce,  ash,  and  curled 
maple,  are  much  utilized  as  finishing  woods.  The 
Cottonwood  is  a  favorite  of  the  coopers,  but,  being 
an  occupant  of  rich,  productive  lands,  its  extermina- 
tion is  sure.  The  tall,  tapering,  perfectly  erect 
trees  of  this  region,  are  said  to  make  the  finest 
possible  spars  for  ehips.  Captain  Vancouver  dis- 
covered this  quality  in  them,  and  soon  set  his  car- 
penters to  fitting  out  The  Discovery  with  new  masts 
and  booms.  Undoubtedly,  those  were  the  first  spars 
for  ships  ever  cut  on  Paget  Sound. 


Mi 


(»».* 


i 


'•y-i,^': 


m 


a^ 


XI<IV. 

.     ©A60MA. 


KULL,  OK  STUMPS  AND  ENTERPRISE. 


BEFORE  me  lies  a  letter,  apparently  from  au  in- 
telligent citizen  of  Illinois,  asking  a  series  of 
qucstio!«3  relating  to  Washington  Territory  and  the 
city  of  Tacoma.  The  writer,  though  quite  be- 
nighted with  reference  to  the  western  terminus  of 
the  Northern  Pacific  Railway,  evidently  does  not 
dwell  in  that  part  of  the  Garden  State  popularly 
called  "  Egypt"  and  there  is  hope,  therefore,  that 
the  subjoined  items  may  at  some  time  reach  him. 

The  communication  was  addressed  to  the  head 
of  the  family  at  whose  fireside  I  find  most  kindly 
welcome  during  my  stay  on  the  Sound.  Not  many 
months  ago  this  man  paid  a  visit  to  Illinois,  and 
while  there  was  much  importuned  to  enlighten  the 
people  about  the  "Great  North-west."  He  had 
seen  it  change  from  a  region  populated  chiefly  by 
solemn  Red  Men  to  one  in  which  reigns  the  Anglo- 
Saxon,  and  talks  the  telephone  and  telegraph ;  and 
he  surely,  if  any  body,  was  reliable  authority.  But 
failing  to  comply  with  these  requests  in  every  in- 
stance, there  followed  him  to  his  Western  home  an 

army  of  interrogations,  as  naive,  some  of  them,  as 
418 


^ 


TACOMA. 


419 


they  were  urgent,  thus  inflicting  upon  him  a  refined 
])unishment  for  his  derelicilon  in  duty. 

A^ay  from  the  Sound,  tiie  stranger  on  the  coast 
hears  of  Old  Taoomn,  New  Taconin,  Tacoraa,  and 
Tacoma  City.  Of  course  he  is  puzzled  to  know 
whether  all  are  one,  or  one  is  all.  But  on  arrival 
here  he  is  quickly  set  right.  There  is  but  one 
Tacoma,  and  so  far  as  the  name  is  concerned,  it  is 
neither  new  nor  old,  but  simply  "  Tacoma."  And 
this  reminds  me  of  an  incident  which  occurred  at 
Chautauqua  a  few  years  ago.  One  day  in  August 
an  energetic  Ladies'  Society  of  Jamestown  sent  a 
courteous  note  to  Chancellor  Vincent,  requesting 
him  to  invite  the  thousands  of  people  summering  at 
"  Point  Chautauqua" — as  the  note  had  it — to  attend 
a  festival  the  ladies  were  holding  in  that  handsome 
city.  Stepping  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  platform 
in  tlie  great  amphitheater,  where  were  seated  barely 
less  than  four  thousand  people,  the  Doctor  read  the 
note  until  he  came  to  the  words  "Point  Chautau- 
qua." Then  looking  up,  he  inquired  in  stentorian 
tones :"  Where  is  'Point  Chautauqua?'  This  is 
Chautauqua.  There  is  but  one  Chautauqua."  So 
we  say  :  There  is  but  one  Tacoma. 

Breaking  off  from  Admiralty  Inlet,  in  a  south- 
easterly direction,  is  Commencement  Bay,  a  lovivly 
sheet  of  water,  deep,  salt,  full  of  fish,  six  miles  long. 
At  the  head  of  this  bay,  on  its  south-eastern  shore, 
lies  the  city  of  Tacoma,  on  a  long,  uneven,  abruptly 


fill 


1 


I 


i  I 


1  i 

I  ; 


420 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


sloping  hillsitlp,  wliich,  at  the  water's  edge,  termi- 
nates mostly  in  a  precipitous  cliff.  Further  around 
to  the  east,  the  Piiyalliip  River,  one  of  the  ten  swift 
streams  emptying  into  Piiget  Sound,  makes  its  exit. 
Around  its  mouth  lie  acres  of  unreclaimed  tide- 
land.  From  this  there  is  a  gradual  ascent  to  a 
range  of  high  bluffs  not  very  distant.  Tlie  re- 
mainder of  the  shore  is  bold,  and  was  once  heavily 
wooded. 

Along  the  base  of  the  cliff"  mentioned  are  located 
the  various  wharves,  several  saw-mills,  steamboat 
landings,  shanties  ocupied  by  Indians  and  Italian 
fisherman,  and  west  of  all  these,  the  expensive  coal- 
bunkers  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Road,  at  which  a 
half  dozen  ships  may  coal  at  one  time.  So  steep 
h  this  cliff"  at  some  points  that  descent  to  the  water 
is  by  long  flights  of  steps.  A  few  streets  of  easy 
grade  give  access  to  the  water  for  vehicles. 

Including  its  first-ward,  Tacoma  stretches  along 
the  bay  a  distance  of  about  three  miles,  facing  nearly 
north-east.  Its  streets,  like  those  of  Los  Angeles, 
extend  obliquely,  without  regard  to  the  points  of 
the  compass.  With  the  exception  of  Pacific  Ave- 
nue, the  chief  business  street,  there  is  steady  ascent 
and  descent  in  all  directions.  Most  of  the  streets 
have  sidewalks  on  one  side  only.  Those  running 
lengthwise  of  the  city  are  long  and  sightly.  Few 
are  graded  to  the  city  limits.  Of  the  cross  streets 
extending  from   the  cliff  to   the   crest  of  the   hill, 


II 


['.'    I 


'in 


:e,  termi- 
Jr  around 
ten  swift 
5  its  exit, 
led  tide- 
^nt  to  a 
The  re- 
;  heavily 

e located 
oamboat 
Italian 
ive  coal- 
which  a 
3o  steep 
le  water 
of  easy 

8  along 

nearly 

ngeles, 

nts  of 

c  Ave- 

ascent 

streets 

inning 

Few 

streets 

3     hill, 


'♦,' 


M    ' 


i 


422 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


about  every  other  one  is  provided  with  a  sidewalk. 
Some  are  not  entirely  opened,  and  are  strewn  with 
fallen  fir-trees  and  studded  with  stumps — stumps 
standing,  stumps  half  uprooted,  stumps  partly  burned. 
A  vacart  lot  is  a  thing  not  to  be  had  in  the  city, 
those  not  occupied  by  buildings  being  preoccupied 
by  stumps.  Nevertheless,  it  requires  not  the  eye  of 
a  seer  to  discern  that  in  but  a  brief  time  these 
stumps  will  vanish  before  the  vim  and  enterprise 
of  the  people,  like  the  fogs  of  the  Puyallup  Valley 
before  the  sun. 

Twelve  years  ago  the  site  of  Tacoma  was  but  a 
wilderness.  To-day,  says  a  note  just  received — Jan- 
uary 12,  1888 — "the  population  is  twelve  thousand," 
making  it  equal  to  that  of  Seattle,  hitherto  its  only 
rival  in  size  in  the  Territory.  Prominent  features 
of  Tacoma  are:  the  almost  total  absence  of  shade 
and  ornamental  trees ;  its  new  hotel,  "  The  Tacoma ;" 
the  central  public  school  building,  occupying  an 
entire  block  on  Yakima  Avenue;  the  Annie  Wright 
Seminary  for  young  ladies,  on  Tacoma  Avenue, 
where  it  commands  fine  views  of  the  Sound  and 
Cascade  Mountains;  and  the  college  for  young  men. 
This  institution  opened  January  1,  1886.  The 
building  is  new,  centrally  located,  and  overlooks 
the  magnificent  country  all  around.  The  Methodists, 
also,  are  coming  forward  with  a  university,  and  the 
Catholics  are  on  the  way  with  a  high-grade  school 
of  some  kind.     Thus,  while  yet  in  its  infancy,  is  this 


TACOMA. 


423 


.» 


energetic  border  town  making  munificent  provision 
for  educating  all  classes  of  Washington  youth. 

The  same  generous  plans  have  been  formed  for 
instructing  the  people  in  the  ways  of  religion. 
There  are  many  denominations  in  the  place,  each 
having  its  own  mini  ter  and  house  of  worship. 
Some  of  them  are  represented  by  a  mere  handful 
of  members.  Others  are  in  com})aratively  strong 
force,  and  have  services  always  well  attended. 

The  city  is  leading  off  nobly,  also,  in  the  matter 
of  a  public  library.  This  already  flourishing  insti- 
tution owes  its  existence  to  the  laudable  efforts  of 
Mrs.  H.  K.  Moore,  an  alumnus  of  Mills  Seminary, 
California,  who,  in  1885,  opened  it  to  the  public, 
having  collected  a  creditable  list  of  books  for  the 
purpose.  In  inviting  quarters,  on  Pacific  Avenue, 
sustained  by  the  best  citizens,  and  appreciated  by 
those  who  have  few  books  of  their  own,  it  promises 
to  do  a  valuable  work  in  the  community.  So  to 
speak,  it  is  here  in  advance  of  the  people.  To  have 
founded  it  is  a  genuine  honor.  Even  in  the  present 
influence  and  helpfulness  of  the  place,  Mrs.  Moore 
is  reaping  no  insignificant  reward  for  the  resolute 
effort  she  has  put  forth. 

Some  two  miles  north-west  of  the  main  portiou 
of  the  city,  and  connected  therewith  by  a  winding 
and  romantic  road,  is  a  hamlet  of  a  few  hundred 
people,  set  down  among  the  firs,  cedars,  spruces,  and 
beeches.     On   the   spurs,   slopes,   and   pretty   little 


1i 

f  'If! 


'''■'I  if 


if  ■■ 


t  :■;■.: 


rr  K 


i' 


''HI 


!   II 


li 


I      l!li    I 


424 


WASHING  TON  TEH  HIT  OR  Y. 


levels  of  the  bluff,  which  just  there  recedes  from  the 
hay,  their  homes  are  built.  This  little  cluster  of 
huildiugs,  is  the  so-called  "Old  Taeoma,"  of  which 
one  hears  so  much,  away  from  tlie  Sound.  It  is 
now  the  First  Ward  of  the  city,  and  contains  a  pub- 
lic school-house,  one  or  two  small  churches,  the 
Fannie  Paddock  Hospital — so  named  in  memory  of 
the  deceased  wife  of  Right  Rev.  J.  A.  Paddock, 
Episcopal  Bishop  of  Washington  Territory — one 
short  8treet  devoted  to  the  sale  of  miscellaneous 
commodities,  the  saw-mill,  store  and  cottages  of  the 
Taeoma  Mill  Coinpany,  and  a  few  snudl  private 
dwellings. 

On  the  principal  street,  scarcely  more  than  a 
crooked  path,  leading  from  the  water  to  the  bluff, 
stands  a  little  Episcopal  chapel,  the  belfry  of  which 
is  a  curiosity.  Unquestionably  it  is  the  oldest,  as 
it  is  certainly  the  most  unique,  bell-tower  on  the 
coast,  being  simply  the  trunk  of  a  stalwart  fir-tree, 
with  its  top  removed,  some  forty  feet  above  the 
ground.  It  stands  at  one  side  of  the  chapel,  flush 
with  the  front.  On  its  top,  under  a  tiny  canopy, 
much  resembling  a  half-opened  Japanese  parasol, 
hangs  an  infantile  bell,  said  to  be  the  first  that  ever 
called  men  to  divine  worship  on  Commencement 
Bay.  Stripped  of  bark  and  blackened  by  fire,  the 
sturdy  stump  thrusts  some  of  its  great  roots  under 
the  very  foundations  of  the  house  beside  which  it 
has  stood  guard  for  years. 


roiTi  the 
ister  of 
f  which 
.     It  is 
s  ji  pub- 
lies,   the 
inory  (tf 
*;ul(h)i'k, 
iry — one 
ilhinoous 
ss  of  the 
private 

i  than  a 
;he  hhiff, 
of  which 
)Ulest,  as 
r  on  the 
t  fir-tree, 
hove  the 
pel,  flush 
r  canopy, 
>   parasol, 

that  ever 
lenc'oment 
yr  fire,  the 
lots  under 

which  it 


TACOMA. 


426 


Going  out  to  the  hamlet  from  Tacoma,  the  road, 
a  little  before  reaching  the  place,  recedes  from  the 
Bay  considerably,  until  about  opposite  the  village, 


St.  Peter's  Chapel,  Taooma,  Oldest  Bell-Tower  on  the  Coast 

when  it  quickly  turns  and  descends  to  the  shore, 
passing  the  little  church  I  have  described.  Near 
this  turning-point  let  us  stop  and  study  the  scene 


; 


^11 

■Ml 


t!i:; 


■ ;  ;(si 


m 


I    I 


426 


WASHTNOTON  TERRITORY. 


:;: 


ii 


I     i 


around  us.  I  have  seen  on  the  coast  few  spots 
more  weird  and  impressive.  I  first  looked  upon  it 
about  twilight  of  a  cool  October  afternoon.  Leav- 
ing my  room,  feeling  wearied,  after  writing  all 
day,  I  was  lured  along  by  one  thing  and  another, 
until  thiG  picture  suddenly  arrested  me.  At  my 
back  rose  the  high  bluff,  crested  with  trees,  erect  as 
arrows.  Above  me  arched  a  sky  of  faint  gold — the 
sun  had  set  in  great  glory  shortly  before.  Before 
me,  so  near  that  I  could  touch  them,  grew  a  dense 
tiiickst  of  cedars  and  spruces.  Between  some,  and 
over  the  tops  of  others,  I  could  see  the  Paddock 
Hospital,  a  cottage  or  two,  and,  furtlier  down,  the 
calm  blue  bay.  Hidden  behind  hillocks  and  knolls, 
lay  the  remainder  of  the  hamlet.  Mistaking  the 
hospital  for  a  church,  I  concluded  that  it  and  ihe  few 
cottages  must  constitute  the  Old  Tacoma,  rumor  of 
which  had  reached  me  even  in  the  East,  and  that  a 
few  mortals,  weary  of  our  headlong  American  mode 
of  life,  had  hidden  themselves  away  in  the  silent 
vale,  in  the  hope  of  a  serene  ending  to  their  days. 
For  a  moment  I  envied  them  their  peace.  But 
after  a  moment's  reflection,  there  was  no  question 
but  that  I  preferred  the  wide  battle-field,  and  a 
steady  part  in  the  warfare. 

But  how  short  of  the  truth  were  my  fancies ! 
Close  under  the  steep  cliff  at  my  right,  buzzed  the 
great  saw-mill,  described  in  the  preceding  chapter,  so 
charged  with  life  and  energy,  that  Cliina  and  Japan 


\v 


TACOMA. 


427 


on  one  side,  and  Xew  York  on  the  other,  feel 
their  effects.  Still,  for  a  little  while,  ignorance  was 
bliss.  Of  the  quaint  place  this  story  is  told:  One 
day,  in  1864,  a  party  of  gentlemen  from  the  Indian 
Reservation,  at  the  head  of  the  bay,  floated  down 
past  this  picturesque  recess  in  the  bluff,  on  a  fishing 
excursion.  Of  the  number  was  one  Job  Carr,  re- 
cently arrived  from  tlie  East.  Observing  the  rough 
little  dale,  he  remarked: 

"That  would  make  a  fine  location  for  a  town." 
His  impressions  were  so  deep  that  he  soon  after 
took  up  the  section  of  land  that  included  the  pretty 
nook,  and  forthwith  laid  out  a  town  thereon,  and 
called  it  "Tacoma  City."  It  started  to  grow;  but 
in  time,  along  came  a  party  of  engineers,  making 
surveys  for  the  mnch-talked-of  railroad  from  Lake 
Superior  to  Puget  Sound.  Naturally,  wherever  the 
road  should  end,  a  city  would  spring  up.  The  loca- 
tion, therefore,  must  be  one  offering  space  for  a  town 
of  considerable  extent.  Happily  the  long  incline 
on  which  Tacoma  now  stands,  met  the  requirement. 
And  to  that  point  the  Northern  Pacific  Company 
decided  to  come  for  its  exodus  to  the  sea.  Mr. 
Carr's  "  City  of  Tacoma  "  fell  within  the  limits  of 
the  site  selected.  Tacoma  was  just  the  name  for 
the  emporium  yet  to  be,  and  was  adopted  at  once, 
the  settlement  in  the  romantic  vale  becoming  simply 
the  First  Ward  of  the  new  city. 

The  name  is  taken  from  Mount  Takhoma,  the 


1,^-' 


,-j ;» 


'I 


':i   i: 


ii:iif 


!|! 


i!| 


I 


If 


428 


WASHING  TON  TERRl  TOR  Y. 


grand  snow-cone,  which,  in  full  view  from  the  city, 
lifts  its  head  far  above  the  thousand  summits  of  the 
Cascade  Range.  In  the  Indian  tongue,  the  word 
signifies   "  the  breast,"   primarily,  because  i  it 

flow  several  swift  streams  of  a  milk-white  color, 
due  to  a  peculiar  white  clay  soil,  through  which 
they  course  down  its  sides. 

A  grander  object  than  this  glacier-clad  mountain 
can  scarcely  be  conceived.  Distant  from  Tacoma 
about  forty-five  miles  by  actual  survey,  and  some- 
thing like  sixty  by  the  usual  route  taken,  it  appears 
to  be  scarcely  five  miles  away,  and  sometimes  even 
nearer.  Fourteen  thousand  four  hundred  and  forty- 
four  feet  above  the  sea,  it  is  never  relieved  of  its  man- 
tle of  snow,  and  is  always  imperial,  always  wonderful. 
On  different  occasions  its  snowy  robe  takes  on  differ- 
ent colors  of  the  spectnnn.  I  have  seen  it  a  faint 
blue,  a  pale  green,  a  dark  purple.  The  splendid  ob- 
ject rises  directly  in  front  of  my  window,  and  glanc- 
ing toward  it,  as  I  pen  this  line,  it  wears  a  clear 
pink  hue,  the  effect  of  the  sunset  now  taking  place. 

Between  myself  and  the  mountain  lies  the  bay, 
smooth  and  cold.  Looking  down  into  it  now,  I  see 
reHected  there — a  full  mile  away — the  majestic  cone, 
apex  downward.  On  each  side  of  it  an  army  of 
firs  and  cedars  stand  on  their  heads.  In  and  out 
among  them,  as  easily  as  though  water  were  their 
native  element,  sails  a  fleet  of  rose-tinted  clouds. 
Did  I  not  actually  behold  the  scene,  I  should   be 


w 


T A  COMA. 


429 


le  city, 

of  the 

e  word 

n  it 

!  i'olor, 

which 

ountain 
Tacotna 
d  some- 
appears 
les  even 
ul  forty- 
its  nian- 
iiulerful. 
)n  differ- 
it  a  faint 
ndid  ob- 
d  glanc- 
s  a  clear 
ng  place, 
the  bay, 
low,  I  sec 
stic  cone, 
army  of 
and  ont 
a-rc  their 
d   clouds. 
4iould  be 


exceedingly  skeptical  as  to  an  object  being  reflected 
in  water  fortv-five  miles  distant.  Indeed,  I  have 
seen  it  a  score  of  times.  Will  the  reader  try  to 
imagine  the  spectacle  as  it  now  appears  to  me? 
The  western  heavens  are  all  aglow  with  sunset  colors. 
Off  in  the  east  stands  the  royal  mountain,  flanked 
by  miles  of  imposing  summits.  Down  in  the  blue 
bay  is  its  beautiful  negative,  inverted  and  tinted 
with  the  farewell  light  of  day.  Watch  it  until  the 
original  is  shut  out  by  the  darkness,  and  you  will 
feel  that  you  are  not  in  a  real  world. 

Not  long  ago  a  citizen  of  the  place  stood  upon 
the  wharf,  conversing  with  a  friend  from  New  York. 
Happening  to  glance  toward  the  water  at  his  feet 
he  saw  Mount  Tacoma  reflected  therein  as  if  in  a 
mirror.     Turning  to  the  gentleman  he  asked : 

"  Would  n't  you  like  to  have  a  nearer  view  of 
Mount  Tacoma  than  we  now  get  from  over  the  tree- 
tops  yonder?" 

"  I  should,  indeed,"  he  replied. 

"  There  you  have  it,"  said  the  other,  pointing  to 
the  deep  water  beside  which  they  stood.  The  vis- 
itor was  amazed,  and  almost  doubted  the  evidence 
of  his  eyes. 

Another  resident  tells  me  that  he  has  twice  seen 
the  great  cone  cast  a  shadoto  over  the  city,  as  would 
a  tall  tree  over  a  moor. 

An  idea  of  the  exceeding  clearness  of  the  atmos- 
phere may  be  gained  from  the  statement  that   the 

37 


il 


n 


!.  1    > 


m 


s  4 


430 


WASHING  TON  TER  lilTOR  Y. 


.'      !l 


mountain  is  frequently  visible  from  the  city  by 
moonlight.  I  myself  have  several  times  enjoyed 
the  pleasure  of  so  seeing  it. 

Mount  Tacoma  contains  a  glacier  of  great  extent. 
Some  writer  has  said,  "  ten  miles  long  and  five  miles 
broad."  Lieutenant  Van  Kantz,  who  at  one  time 
attempted  to  scale  the  cone,  relinquished  his  pur- 
pose on  finding  himself  confronted  by  this  vast  field 
of  ice.  Others  have  accomplished  the  feat,  but  re- 
port immense  ice-fields  in  the  way. 

Late  in  the  Summer,  a  member  of  this  house- 
hold, thinking  he  lacked  finish  in  the  way  of  travel, 
although  just  returned  from  a  trip  to  Europe,  con- 
cluded that  a  jaunt  to  the  snow-line  on  Mount  Ta- 
coma would  meet  his  want.  Accordingly,  in  com- 
pany with  a  party  as  intrepid  as  it  was  small,  he 
set  out.  Reaching  the  monarch,  up  and  up  they 
went  on  his  side,  until  a  height  of  over  nine  thou- 
sand feet  had  been  gained.  There  they  passed  three 
days  hunting  wild  goats  amid  the  perils  of  its 
awful  glacier.  From  the  city  of  Tacoma  the  trip  is 
made  in  two  and  a  half  days.  Twenty-five  miles 
are  made  by  rail,  and  the  remainder  on  horseback. 
Ascents  are  usually  partial  only,  and  rarely  take 
place  after  August. 


f 


©HE   CXPULSIOM   OP    THE  (ShINBSB. 


"  npHE  Chinese  must  go,"  was  an  utterance  heard 
J.  on  the  street,  in  the  shops,  stores,  offices,  and 
homes  of  Tacoma,  many  times  a  day  during  the 
past  month — October.  In  the  city  were  several 
hundred  of  these  people,  engaged  in  dliferent  occu- 
pations, and  all  as  busy  as  bees.  During  this  period 
the  question  of  their  expulsion  occasioned  more 
serious  thought  on  the  part  of  the  American  citi- 
zens than  did  all  other  topics  combined.  All  classes 
di;:;cussed  the  subject  by  the  hour,  formed  opinions 
concerning  it,  and  over  it  grew  more  or  less  anxious 
and  excited,  daily.  Various  were  the  reasons  for 
this  fever.  One  of  the  most  apparent  was  the 
following: 

Many  persons  honestly  regarded  the  steady  en- 
croachments of  the  Asiatic  race  as  a  grave  menace 
against  American  occupation  of  the  coast;  and, 
spurred  on  by  the  possibility  of  themselves  becom- 
irg  the  inferiors  in  power  and  numbers,  they  de- 
termined to  rise  up  and  expel  the  Mongolians  while 
they  could.  The  plea  appeared  ludicrous,  at  first 
thought,  and  provoked  an  incredulous  smile.     The 

bare  suggestion  that  the  Flowery  Kingdom  could 

431 


1  i 


J-    u* 


1'    i 


'  »' 


'^1 


[!■' 


[•     \- 


432 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


i'' 


I      .  'l  ! 


■m; 


liiii  'I 


pour  upon  this  coast  a  sufficient  number  of  its  teem- 
ing millions  to  subvert  its  present  apparently  in- 
vincible occupants,  savored  of  the  weakest  nonsense. 

But  let  us  endeavor  to  see  the  situation  as  it 
appeared  to  these  worried  citizens.  It  was  a  fact 
that  the  Chinese  were  taking  up  one  employment 
after  another,  and  another,  those  of  women  as  well 
as  men,  and  in  time  monopolized  each  one.  They 
were  pushing  on  from  city  to  city  in  ever-increasing 
force,  everywhere  finding  work  and  making  money. 
They  were  industrious  to  a  fault,  apt,  skillful,  obe- 
dient, could  live  on  wages  upon  which  the  white  man 
would  starve,  and  in  a  condition  utterly  repellent  to 
him.  Without  families  to  support,  except  in  rare 
cases,  their  advantage  over  the  American  laborer  was 
enormous.  Besides,  they  were  draining  the  coast  of 
money,  and  therewith  filling  the  banks  of  China. 
Moreover,  none  of  them  intended  to  become  Amer- 
ican citizens.  Not  one  in  a  hundred  took  any 
interest  in  the  affiiirs  of  the  country,  or  gave  a 
thought  to  its  welfare,  or  aided  in  sustaining  its 
government  and  institutions.  All  these,  and  several 
more,  were  grave  facts,  and  gave  the  people  serious 
cause  for  feeling.  But  it  was  viewing  the  subject 
from  a  single  stand-point.  It  had  other  aspects  as 
deserving  of  attention,  were  it  at  all  the  province 
of  these  paragraphs  to  consider  them,  their  purpose 
being  simply  to  relate  the  history  of  the  eviction. 

Active  steps  toward  the  expulsion  of  the  Mon- 


THE  EXPULSION  OF  THE  CHINESE.        433 


golians  from  the  Puget  Sound  Valley  began  in  a 
conference  of  representatives  from  five  counties, 
held  in  Tacoma,  Saturday,  September  5th.  This 
meeting  recommended  that  committees  be  appointed 
to  call  upon  all  parties  within  the  bounds  of  the 
conference,  employing  Chinese,  and  to  request  them 
to  discharge  all  such  laborers  from  their  service, 
and  also  to  sever"  all  business  relations  with  them. 
Committees  were  immediately  organized  to  carry  out 
the  will  of  the  conference.  The  limit  of  time  fixed 
for  the  removal  of  the  foreigners,  was  yesterday, 
Sunday,  November  1st.  Thus  were  two  months 
allowed  the  gardeners,  house-servants,  laundrymen, 
shoemakers,  stone-cutters,  saw-mill  hands,  coal- 
miuers,  railroad  employees,  and  so  on,  to  arrange 
for  their  departure  from  the  region. 

As  the  committees  proceeded  with  their  work, 
interest  in  the  movement  increased,  both  pro  and 
con,  throughout  the  valley.  On  every  hand  could 
be  heard  the  pithy  sentence,  "  The  Chinese  must 
go,''  while  every  day,  clearer  grew  the  evidence  that 
a  solution  of  the  difficult  problem  was  approaching. 
As  the  time  passed,  one  organization  after  another, 
a  company  here,  and  a  company  there,  quietly  re- 
placed its  Chinese  with  American  laborers.  Every 
such  result  added  to  the  sentiment  against  the 
Celestials,  and  gave  strength  to  the  movement. 

In  every  community  were  persons  who  earnestly 
opposed   the   measure.     These  were,  chiefly,  parties 


•liL 

\ 

U'i, 

i 
i 

'4' 

^ 

i 
1 ' 

t—     - 

-]l  - 

t 

L 
1     .        . 

i        1 

If       -r     ' 
1 

J 

1 

ll '  1 

1 

mi''>  ' 

434 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


employing  the  Chinamen  as  domestic  servants,  and 
some  firms  hiring  them  in  large  numbers.  Certain 
ministers  also,  and  other  citizens,  resisted  the  action 
on  moral  and  Christian,  as  well  as  humanitarian 
grounds.  The  two  daily  journals  espoused  the  cause 
of  the  evictors,  and,  in  the  heat  of  the  controversy, 
failed  to  allow  to  certain  of  their  townsmen  the 
freedom  of  opinion  and  of  speech  which  has  always 
been  our  loud  boast  in  this  Republic.  To  those 
pastors,  even,  whose  objections  were  both  moderately 
and  discreetly  but  firmly  spoken,  was  certainly  not 
accorded  the  courteous  consideration  due  to  their 
office  and  relations  in  the  community.  The  jour- 
nals, however,  endeavored  faithfully  to  enlighten 
ihp  public  by  setting  forth  the  appalling  filth  and 
vicious  practices  in  which  the  Chinese  lived,  wher- 
ever crowded  together.  And  to  these  efforts  was 
largely  attributable  their  complete  removal  from 
Tacoma,  and  also  the  restriction  of  Chinese  immi- 
gration to  this  part  of  the  coast. 

During  the  past  two  months,  the  Knights  of 
Labor  and  the  Order  of  the  Golden  Era — both  vir- 
tually one  thing,  the  latter  being,  among  farmers, 
what  the  formep  organization  is  in  towns  and  cities — 
have  done  their  utmost  to  convince  every  individual 
Chinaman  that  the  mandate  to  remove  meant 
nothing  short  of  total  leave-taking.  Meantime, 
numerous  public  meetings  of  the  citizens  have  been 
held,  and  torchlight  processions  have  paraded,  while 


TBE  EXPULSION  OF  THE  CHINESE.        435 

neighboring  communities  have  lent  each  other  their 
presence  and  influence,  to  fan  the  enthusiasm. 

Meantime,  again,  the  coolies  far  and  near  have 
heard  the  muttering  of  the  thunder,  have  seen  the 
growing  dark  cloud,  and  in  large  numbers  have 
hurried  preparations  for  sailing  away  home  ere  the 
storm  should  burst.  On  the  other  hand,  the  more 
intelligent  and  intrepid  resolved  to  stand  their 
ground,  and  see  what  would  come  of  it. 

When  the  first  steps  were  taken  toward  expul- 
sion, there  were  in  Tacoma  about  seven  hundred 
coolies  and  trading  Chinese.  To-day  probably  three 
hundred  remain  to  test  the  warnings  of  the  Knights 
of  Labor.  The  entire  Sound  Valley  contained  be- 
tween four  and  five  thousand.  From  Whatcom, 
Benton,  Wilkeson,  South  Prairie,  and  Port  Blakely 
they  are  reported  to  have  wholly  disappeared.  By 
the  "Franklin,"  " Carbondale,"  and  "Black  Dia- 
mond "  coal  companies  they  have  been  discharged,  as 
well  as  from  several  fish-canneries  and  large  saw-mills. 
The  final  demonstration  against  this  people 
took  place  on  Saturday  evening  last,  in  the  form  of 
a  street  parade,  and  was  as  impressive  as  Tacoma 
and  considerable  delegations  from  ^gv  neighbors, 
Seattle  and  Puyallup,  could  make  it.  It  had  been 
previously  proclaimed  that  after  the  procession  there 
would  occur  a  meeting  of  the  committees,  at  which 
would  be  determined  the  course  to  be  taken  with 
coolies  found  in  the  city  after  midnight. 


I 


t  VjiJ 


h 


w 


t 


fi' 


T. 


I 


'  ,, 

1    •      M 

m 

m^jLi. 

43(5 


WASHING  TON  TERRITOR  Y. 


This  statement  put  every  body  on  the  qui  vive  to 
ascertain  how  matters  stood  the  moment  Sunday 
morning  dawned.  Being  myself  far  from  indif- 
ferent on  the  subject,  and  having  risen  at  an  early 
hour,  I  stepped  to  a  window  of  my  room  overlook- 
ing the  rear  veranda  of  a  neighbor's  house,  where 
nsually  at  that  hour  stood  Charlie,  the  Chinese  serv- 
ant, busy  i»Ith  preparations  for  the  morning  meal. 
To  my  surprise  he  was  at  his  post,  in  sacque  and 
apron  white  as  snow,  quietly  getting  tiie  breakfast. 
Presently  an  elderly  Chinaman  passed  down  the 
avenue,  and  during  the  day  several  others  appeared 
on  the  streets. 

Desiring  to  learn  the  exact  situation  of  affairs 
before  penning  this  account,  accompanied  by  the 
friend  in  whose  home  I  dwell,  I  called  upon  Mr. 
R.  J.  Weisbach,  the  mayor  of  Tacoma,  for  such  in- 
formation in  the  case  as  he  felt  disposed  to  impart. 
Being  a  tradesman  of  the  city,  as  well  as  its  chief 
officer,  we  found  him  at  his  store  on  Pacific  Avenue. 
Mr.  Weisbach  is  a  German,  as  his  name  indicates, 
but  he  speaks  English  well,  and  is  courteous,  affable, 
and  very  intelligent.  As  one  of  the  Knights  of 
Labor,  he  has  been  active  in  the  crusade  against 
the  Chinese.  Upon  my  inquiring  what  course  would 
be  pursued  in  reference  to  those  remaining  in  the 
town,  he  replied : 

"  I  an  not  now  state  exactly.  They  have  been 
informed  that  they  must  leave.     The  time  allowed 


1 


THE  EXPULSION  OF  THE  CHINESE. 


437 


them  for  preparation  has  expired.  They  are  aware 
of  that.  If  any  of  them  choose  to  tarry  and  take 
the  consequences,  we  can  not  help  it." 

"  No  acts  of  violence  will  be  committed  against 
them,  I  presume  ?" 

**  None  whatever.  The  probable  course  will  be 
a  strict  system  of  boycotting,  which  will  certainly 
result  in  their  departure." 

"  Have  most  of  those  already  gone  returned  to 
China?" 

"  From  the  entire  coast  between  six  and  seven 
thousand  have  sailed  for  home.  About  four  thou- 
sand have  gone  to  Eastern  cities.  From  the  vicinity 
of  the  Sound  a  large  number  have  found  quarters 
in  Portland,  where  there  is  little  hostility  toward 
them.  Also,  a  strong  force  has  congregated  at 
Olympia.  We  rather  encourage  their  emigration  to 
Eastern  cities.  Our  brethren  there  have  ever  felt 
little  sympathy  for  the  people  of  this  coast  in  their 
trials  with  the  Chinese,  and  we  want  them  to  have 
an  opportunity  to  exercise  their  benevolence  and 
philanthropy  toward  the  strange  race." 

"Are  many  of  your  citizens  opposed  to  this 
movement  against  cheap  labor?" 

"  No.  The  contrary  is  true.  We  have  here  two 
classes.  One  lives  on  the  products  of  its  own  labor. 
The  other  subsists  on  the  fruit  of  other  people's 
toil.  The  latter  class  laments  the  loss  of  the 
Chinese." 


if*- 


1' 


438 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


ii 

f  1 


> ' 


1  :' 


'I  ! 


"  What  view  of  the  subject  is  held  by  the  dis- 
tinctively Christian  portion  of  the  community?" 

"Opinion  is,  of  course,  divided.  The  Presby- 
terian and  Congregational  ministers,  with  some 
others,  disapprove  of  the  course,  and  thiidc  we  should 
retain  the  Chinese  in  our  midst  and  try  to  elevate 
them.  The  Unitarian,  Universalist,  Catholic,  and 
Disciple  pastors  are  of  the  opinion  that  the  country 
would  be  better  off  if  a  Mongolian  had  never 
crossed  the  sea." 

"Chiefly,  what  occupations  have  the  Chinese  fol- 
lowed in  this  country?" 

"  In  large  numbers  they  have  been  doir°stic  serv- 
ants and  lauudrymen;  then  gardeners,  coal-miners, 
ditchers,  laborers  on  the  railways,  workers  on  the 
streets,  makers  of  ladies'  and  children's  underwear, 
contractors,  merchants,  brokers  for  themselves  and 
also  for  the  Americans." 

"You  are  confident  the  order  of  the  Knig'.^p 
of  Labor  will  succeed  in  expelling  these  men  from 
the  city?" 

"  It  will.     Undoubtedly  it  will." 

Bidding  the  gentleman  "good-day,"  I  calle*  at 
a  mercantile  house  a  little  farther  down  the  avenue 
to  make  some  trifling  purchase.  Immediately  the 
absorbing  topic  was  mentioned.  Whereupon  the 
merchant  said,  with  no  slight  fervor: 

"  Not  a  race  on  the  earth  can  stand  before  the 
Chinese,  as  they  are  pushing  their  way  in  America. 


THE  EXPULSION  OF  THE  CHINESE.       439 


Were  they  to-day  allowed  to  flock  into  the  Sound 
Valley  in  such  numbers  as  they  came  here  three 
years  ago,  we  ourselves  should  soon  have  to  leave." 

Entering  the  office  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Rail- 
way on  my  way  home,  I  was  ^  -^litely  greeted  by  its 
single  occupant,  who,  upon  my  inquiring  what  atti- 
tude the  Western  Manageuient  took  with  reference 
to  the  agitation,  replied: 

"  I  think  I  can  say  that  to  a  man  the  officers 
of  the  road  indorse  the  movement,  although  the 
Northern  Pacific  Road  is  a  considerable  employer 
of  coolie  labor.  Some  days  since,  its  representatives 
stated  to  the  Knights  of  Labor,  that  if  the  Order 
would  guarantee  the  road  a  sufficient  force  of  white 
laborers,  it  would  discharge  its  Chinese  hands.  In- 
deed," he  continued,  **  there  are  but  fe-v  men  in  the 
community  who  are  not  of  the  opinion  that  the 
welfare  of  the  place  requires  the  expulsion  of  the 
Chinese." 

Tuesday,  November  -?f?.— In  the  afternoon  of  yes- 
terday the  great  excitement  culminalcr-  in  the  almost 
total  exodus  of  the  Mongolians.  The  principal 
movers  in  the  proceedings  were  the  Knights  A 
Labor  and  some  others  in  sympathy  with  them. 
The  two  following  paragraphs,  conderired  from  an 
account  of  the  affiiir  given  in  the  Ticoma  Daily 
Evening  News,  are  evidence  that  the  iueasures  adopted 
fur  their  removal  were  not  altogether  those  of 
"strict  boycotting." 


I 


1 


i. 

Hi'' 


if: 

lilt 


440 


V'ASHINO  TON  TER RITOR  V. 


During  the  morning  the  "  Committee  of  Fifteen" 
paid  a  visit  to  the  various  Chinese  quarters  in  the 
city.  In  obedience  to  a  preconcerted  signal  given 
by  the  steam  whistles,  a  force  of  about  five  hundred 
persons  assembled,  and  attended  this  committee,  as 
a  sort  of  body-guard.  The  Chinese  establishments 
were  visited  in  succession,  and  the  inmates  informed 
that  they  "  must  pack  up  at  once."  An  intelligent 
Chinaman  was  induced  to  act  as  interpreter  on 
the  occasion,  and  to  aid  in  securing  entrance  into 
the  buildings.  In  most  instances  the  coolies  ap- 
peared willing  to  comply.  Some  asked  for  an  ex- 
tension of  time,  while  others  assumed  airs  of  inde- 
pendence and  unconcern.  Upon  arriving  at  the 
tenaments  located  on  the  wharf,  the  guide  of  the 
"Committee  of  Fifteen"  observed  a  hand-bill  in 
Chinese  posted  at  a  conspicuous  point.  After  read- 
ing this,  he  objected  to  proceeding  in  his  mission, 
and  was  released.  In  this  locality  a  few  refused  to 
open  their  doors,  and  were  for  the  time  passed 
undisturbed. 

The  committee  and  its  escort  now  proceeded  to 
the  First  Ward — Old  Tacoma.  Here  were  discov- 
ered, stowed  away  in  a  labyrinth  of  dens,  fifty-one 
men.  Urged  to  pack  up  their  effects  at  once,  they 
complied,  and  were  escorted  to  the  city  by  the  evic- 
tors.  At  a  joss-house  near  were  found  three  others 
who  joined  the  procession.  Returning  now  to 
the  wharfj  the  committee  searched  every  nook  and 


THE  EXPULSIOS  OF  THE  CHINESE. 


441 


, »» 


corner,  and  ordered  all  occupants  of  the  place  to  pre- 
pare to  leave.  By  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
somethinn-  over  two  hundred,  accompanied  by  their 
luggage  in  wagons,  and  attended  by  the  committee 
and  an  escort  of  citizens,  moved  down  Pacific  Ave- 
nue, and  thence  out  into  the  country  toward  Lake- 
view,  a  station  on  the  Northern  Pacific  Road,  about 
eight  miles  distant. 

To  something  less  than  twenty  of  the  men  the 
Committee  granted  the  further  extension  of  time 
requested.  And  three  who  were  ill— one  of  whom 
was  a  leper — were  allowed  to  tarry  until  recovery, 
or  for  more  comfortable  transportation.  "A  force 
of  about  thirty  Tacomans"  passed  the  night  at 
Lakeview  with  the  ejected  people.  This  morning 
the  railway  sent  out  cars  to  convey  the  latter  to 
Portland.  Thus  was  accomplished  that  most  sin- 
gular event  in  American  history — the  expulsion  of 
the  Chinese  from  Tacoma. 

The  papers  of  to-day  state  that  throughout  the 
action  of  yesterday  not  a  deed  of  violence  was  com- 
mitted against  the  Chinese,  and  that  the  sheriff, 
who  was  constantly  in  attendance,  at  no  time  inter- 
fered with  the  proceedings.  All  this  is  doubtless  true. 
Still  there  were  some  features  of  the  closing  scene 
which  were  calculated  to  excite  commiseration  for 
the  outgoing  company. 

Rain  was  falling  steadily  as  they  passed  out  into 
the  open  country.     There  were  a  few  women  in  the 


4    1 
i    iJ 


I  n 


1 


til 


11 


-rfir 


■", 


i 


i 
1.1. 


- 


4' 


11 


^  ■ 

m^  ■■■ 

1      f.' 

p|:i 

J! 

•v" 

It 

IK^ 

Jul.,lv*L              .    i     . 

442 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


wagons.  Some  of  the  men  were  in  t  ars.  They 
were  leaving  with  some — to  say  the  least — pecuniary 
losses,  and  with  inrlefinite  prospects  ahead.  A  citi- 
zen relates  that  as  the  procession  was  about  to  start 
he  saw  a  coolie  apply  at  a  provision  store  for  some 
article  of  food,  for  which  he  offered  to  pay;  but  it 
wns  persistently  refused  him  by  the  dealer,  though 
he  pleaded  strenuously  :  "Me  hungry.     Me  starve." 

The  inhuman  act,  it  is  needless  to  add,  was 
heartily  condemned  by  those  who  witnessed  it,  and 
if  the  kindly  deed  of  one  person  can  balance  the 
cruel  one  of  another,  it  was  fully  offset  by  certain 
parties  emplo-ying  Chinese  servants,  who,  it  is  said, 
upon  their  leave-taking,  abundantly  supplied  them 
with  food  for  the  journey.  As  a  matter  of  course, 
some  inconvenience  will  be  experienced  in  the  place 
by  this  sudden  surrender  of  laborers.  Feeling  it 
not  the  least,  will  be  the  households  in  which  num- 
bers of  the  coolies  have  served  as  domestics.  Dis- 
cussing the  suVyect,  the  ladies  have  often  asked : 
"  What  shall  we  do  for  reliable  help?" 

As  an  appendix  to  this  account,  I  may  state  that 
about  eleven  o'clock  next  day  after  the  eviction,  the 
Chinese  tenements  on  the  wharf  were  found  to  be 
in  flames,  and  in  a  few  minutes  were  reduced  to 
smoke  and  debris.  And  before  night  those  in  the 
First  Ward  also  disappeared  by  the  same  agency. 
These  were  said  to  be  reeking  with  filth,  from  which 
nothing  less  effective  than  fire  could  cleanse  them. 


BB 


THE  EXPULSION  OF  THE  CHINESE.       443 


)> 


As  the  flames  from  the  wharf  arose  in  the  air, 
numerous  were  the  inquiries  as  to  who  were  the 
authors  of  the  arson,  for  it  was  hardly  supposed  the 
fire  was  accidental.  One  of  the  tarrying  Celestials 
was  promptly  arrested  as  the  probable  incendiary ; 
but,  evidence  failing  to  convict  him,  he  was  set  at 
liberty.  So,  "Who  applied  the  torch?"  is  still  the 
question. 

November  12th. — The  remarkable  promptitude  of 
the  President  of  the  Ur.ited  States  in  ordering 
troops  to  Puget  Sound,  the  haste  of  the  marshal  of 
the  Territory  in  serving  warrants  of  arrest  upon  the 
leaders  in  the  Chinese  crusade,  together  with  the 
almost  simultaneous  appearance  of  a  manifesto  from 
Governor  Squire,  warning  all  citizens  in  the  "  dis- 
affected districts  against  taking  part  in  any  breach 
of  the  peace,"  and  against  "  inciting  others  to  riot- 
ous acts,"  as  well  as  the  calling  upon  the  officers 
of  the  law  "  to  preserve  order  in  the  excited  com- 
munities, and  to  secure  to  Chinese  residents  freedom 
from  assault,"  have  pliaced  the  trouble  in  Western 
Washington  in  the  category  with  those  which  do  not 
"  blow  over  in  sixty  days." 

Then,  too,  closely  following  these  acts,  came  a 
Proclamation  by  the  President,  declaring  the  citizens 
of  the  Puget  Sound  district  to  be  in  a  "state  of 
insurrection,"  and  charging  that  "the  laws  of  the 
Territory  could  not  be  enforced  by  ordinary  judi- 
cial   proceeding,"  that  "  life   and  property  were   in 


t     r. 


;if^' 


fVrl. 

T 

rtft 


It 


■'   i 

1 

.  1  ^  «          1- 

Sill "'  ■  '    f^  ' 

"1 
I 

444 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


danger,"  and  that  "  the  uprising  was  of  such  import- 
ance, as  to  require  the  presence  of  the  military  for 
its  suppression," 

Barely  had  those  who  were  most  aggressive  in 
the  expulsion  of  the  Chinese,  returned  from  Lake- 
view,  and  resumed  their  occupations,  ere  these  pro- 
nunciamentos  were  flying  in  the  air.  Some  action 
on  the  part  of  Governor  Squire  was  indeed  antici- 
pated. But  had  a  thunderholt  fallen  suddenly  at 
the  feet  of  the  Committee  of  Fifteen,  its  members 
could  hardly  have  been  more  startled  than  upon 
reading  this  proclamation  by  the  President.  And 
to  the  majority  of  the  community  the  document 
seemed  the  most  absurd  thing  in  the  world. 

Nobody  was  in  a  state  of  insurrection,  it  was 
claimed.  Life  and  property  were  never  more  secure. 
The  whole  unfavorable  impression  which  had  gone 
abroad,  was  due  to  the  groundless  fears  of  Governor 
Squire,  the  misrepresentations  of  newspapers  opposed 
to  the  movement,  and  the  malice  of  a  few,  whose 
interest  it  was  to  have  the  Chinese  remain.  The 
eviction  had  been  accomplished  without  shedding 
a  drop  of  blood.  And  those  who  had  so  well  per- 
formed the  deed  were  now  industriously  at  work. 
What  nonsense,  therefore,  to  order  such  citizens 
"to  go  peaceably  home!" 

Scarcely  hr.d  the  President's  notice  reached  the 
people,  ere  a  special  train  left  Tacoma,  to  bring  up 
from  Portland,  troops  ordered  to  the  Sound  from 


[<iS 


THE  EXPULSION  OF  THE  CHINESE.        445 


Fort  Vancouver.  This  step  had  no  other  effect  than 
to  provoke  amusement. 

"What  will  they  do  when  they  get  here?"  in- 
quired some. 

"  How  will  they  manage  to  put  down  a  people 
who  are  not  at  all  in  rebellion?"  asked  others. 

**  Let  them  come,"  said  the  caln-minded.  "We 
shall  be  glad  to  see  them.  It  will  give  the  boys. a 
change." 

Soon  the  soldiers  appeared,  a  portion  of  them 
encamping  in  Tacoma,  anil  t'.ie  remainder  proceed- 
ing to  Seattle,  to  "quell  the  uprising  in  that  city." 
This  they  accomplished  in  the  rather  unique  way 
of  "  levying  upon  every  Chinaman  in  the  place  a 
special  tax  of  twenty-five  cents,  wherewith  to  re- 
plenish their  personal  exchequer,"  after  too  freely 
spending  the  money  in  pocket  when  they  left 
Vancouver. 

Meanwhile  the  grand  jury  at  Vancouver  found 
true  bills  against  twenty-five  citizens  of  Tacoma  for 
complicity  in  the  anti-Chinese  movement.  Among 
them  were:  His  Honor,  Mayor  Wiesbach,  the  Judge 
of  Probate,  several  counnilmen  of  the  city,  the 
editor-in-chief  of  the  Tacoma  Daily  Evening  News, 
a  number  of  Grand  Army  veterans,  and  some 
others.  Cited  to  appear  at  once,  the  parties  ar- 
ranged their  affairs  for  an  indefinite  absence,  and 
on-^  by  one  appeared  at  the  rendezvous  whence  they 
wore  to  set  out.     "At  the  train,  upon  their  depart- 


446 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


T 


iiJ'i'S 


lu: 


^ 


r 


i 


I: 


T      4 

1 


^■•wii' 


a  i 


'.'•it  •  • «    fs  1 


ure,  was  assembled  quite  a  concourse  of  the  citizens, 
who,  as  the  train  moved  off,  took  them  by  the  hand 
and  wished  them  success."  On  the  same  train,  also, 
the  soldiers  placed  their  camp  equipage  and  them- 
selves, and  sped  back  to  Vancouver,  having  found  in 
Tacoma  no  casus  belli.  Tiie  company  dispatched  to 
Seattle,  to  look  after  the  interests  of  law  and  order 
in  the  bright  town,  tarried  a  few  days  longer. 

The  indicted  Tacomans  were  detained  at  Depart- 
ment Head-quarters  bui  a  few  days  and  were 
then  released  on  bail,  their  trial  being  set  for  the 
next  terra  of  court  at  Tacoma.  At  the  session,  upon 
the  case  coming  up,  the  indictments  were  immedi- 
ately annulled,  and  the  parties  discharged.  Then 
the  affairs  of  the  Sound  Valley  adjusted  themselves 
to  the  new  order  of  things,  and  the  unique  uprising 
was  a  matter  of  the  past. 

A  note  received  from  a  friend  in  Tacoma,  as  this 
work  is  in  preparation  for  the  press,  states: 

"  We  have  reason  to  be  glad  now,  that  we  have 
no  Chinese  among  us.  To-day  the  neat  little  cot- 
tages of  well-paid  laborers  are  seen,  in  place  of  the 
wretched  dens  the  former  occupied.  One  glance  at 
a  group  of  poor  lepers  huddled  together,  on  their 
way  through  Portland,  the  other  day,  sufficed  to 
remove  all  regret  over  our  promptness  in  ridding 
our  city  of  their  race." 


1 


fl   I^AiNY  Season  in  the  ^ugbip 
Sound  Ualley. 


OMITTING  the  loneliness  produced  by  the  som 
ber  skies,  a  rainy  season  in  Western  Wash- 
ington affords  a  novel,  rather  than  a  disagreeable, 
experience,  particularly  to  one  accustomed  to  see 
the  liquid  fall  chiefly  in  showers,  and  during  all 
periods  of  the  year.  Especially  is  this  true  if  one's 
habitation  happens  to  be  on  a  sightly  hillside  down 
which  the  water  flows  away  freely,  and  if  one  can 
get  everywhere  by  going  up  or  down  hill,  as  is  the 
case  in  these  Sound  cities. 

The  rainy  period  begins  at  no  established  date. 
It  may  delay  until  the  middle  of  November,  but  its 
advent  is  usually  earlier.  The  28th  of  October 
witnessed  its  introduction  the  present  year,  and  we 
have  now  had  over  one  month  of  quite  steady  rain, 
varied  by  two  entire  days  of  radiant  sky.  During 
the  first  ten  days  there  were  frequent  showers,  with 
intervals  of  genial  sunshine  between.  But  at  night 
down  came  the  fluid  continuously  on  roof  and  win- 
dow-pane, producing  music  which  vividly  recalled 
these  animated  lines: 


"  Myriads  of  masflive  rain-drops 
Have  fallen  on  all  around  ; 


447 


tV  <4 

■;  h 

a-'  ■ 

m 

','  -•■• 

i;"'> 

1  ' 

mi'  '■'•  ^ 

W  ^ii 

E  ■'' 

tet  ^^Sn 

ik   ,'  ' 

1   ■- 

i  , 

Hl'iir 

1 '' ' 

li; 

^;  : 

^i|^ 

;  -' 

2' 

it 


^fir' 


in^i 


II 


I  I 


448  WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 

Some  have  danced  upon  the  house-tops, 
Some  have  hidden  in  the  ground. 

They  were  hquid-Hke  musicians 
AVith  any  thing  for  keys ; 

Beating  tunes  upon  the  windows, 
Keeping  time  upon  the  trees." 

Occasionally  the  very  flood-gates  seemed  to  open 
and  pour  down  millions  of  tiny  streams.  Then 
would  the  music  swell  into  a  great  voluuie  of  sweet 
sound,  composing  a  grand  chorus,  in  which  the  total 
orchestra  of  the  heavens  took  part.  For  hours  in 
the  night  have  I  listened  to  the  exciting  perform- 
ance. How  the  rapid  movement  recalled  those 
words  of  the  melancholy  Jeremiah :  "  When  He  ut- 
tereth  his  voice  there  is  a  multitude  of  waters  in 
the  heavens" — a  statement  which  answers  God's 
question  to  suffering  Job:  "Hath  the  rain  a  father?" 

Did  ever  Mr.  Theodore  Thomas's  musicians  try 
to  imitate  the  music  of  pouring  rain?  If  not,  the 
Puget  Sound  basin  would  afford  them  fine  oppor- 
tunity for  practice  under  a  teacher  unexcelled. 
And  why  would  not  the  imitating  for  fifleen  min- 
ute.s,  some  warm  Summer  evening,  the  varying  tones 
of  the  rain-drops,  with  harps,  fifes,  flutes,  cornets, 
drums,  violin^),  ba.s.s-viols,  large  horns,  and  small 
horns,  furnish  a  diversion  well  worth  a  dollar  to  hear? 

But  on  this  northern  coast,  the  days  of  rain  con- 
stant, not  less  than  those  of  rain  intermittent,  bring 
advantages,  not  alone  to  the  old  earth,  made  "soft 
with  .showers,"  but  to  the  housewives  of  these  young 


'■? 


r 


T 


A  RAINY  SEASON. 


449 


and  social  cities.  They  provide  opportunities  for 
accomplishing  needed  family  sewing,  and  long  de- 
layed patching  and  darning;  for  writing  letters  to 
loved  ones  "  back  in  the  States ;"  for  "  putting  to 
rights  "  disordered  pantries  and  closets;  and,  best  of 
all,  for  calming  minds  distracted  by  interruptions 
innumerable  during  the  long  cheery  Summer-time. 

**  Do  you  wonder,"  said  a  dear  friend  to  me 
yesterday  morning,  as  she  and  her  daughters  seated 
themselves  for  a  day  at  sewing,  **  that  we  hail  the 
rainy  season  with  some  satisfaction?  A  day  like 
this"  (there  was  "a  sound  of  abundance  of  rain" 
outside)  "is  a  real  blessing  to  us.  We  shall  prob- 
ably have  no  company,  and  so  shall  get  on  with 
our  work." 

There  is  something  in  the  very  nature  of  the 
bright  days  in  this  region,  which  allures  people  out 
of  doors,  and  renders  them  socially  inclined.  This, 
added  to  the  fact  that  many  are  far  from  home  and 
friends,  and  therefore  are  appreciative  of  courtesies 
shown  them,  makes  regular  routine  in  agreeable  and 
hospitable  families  almost  impossible.  Somebody  is 
ever  dropping  in  to  spend  a  little  time.  So  away 
speed  the  Summers,  leaving  all  except  the  impera- 
tive tasks  unaccomplished,  perhaps. 

Although  the  last  day  of  November,  the  grass 
is  a  bright  green  and  the  air  Spring-like.  Out  of 
doors  are  blooming  roses,  mignonette,  marigolds, 
chrysanthemums,  and  other  flowers.     I  am  writing 


M 


n 


I- 


^1 '    -If. 


lk-\:i 


it,-  ^  4  i 


.4 


;  fi 


r 


450 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


without  fire,  "iid  have  spent  few  clays  in  a  warm 
room  since  my  arrival  here.  Last  evening  was  re- 
markably Summer-like.  The  sun  dropped  into  the 
Pacific  before  five  o'clock.  The  half-moon  beamed 
down  brightly.  •  Everywhere  were  people  out  en- 
joying the  beauty.  A  hundred  tiny  rivulets,  full 
of  speed,  merry  as  larks,  were  singing  their  way 
down  to  the  Sound,  the  rain-clouds  having  departed 
with  the  suD.  I  often  stop,  on  my  way  down  into 
the  city,  beside  one  of  these  talking  brooks,  and 
listen  to  its  suggestive  sayings.  Do  not  imagine 
that  this  open  state  of  the  weather  will  continue 
until  Spring.  January  and  February  will  bring 
light  snows ;  will  send  the  mercury  down  nearly  to 
zero,  and  will  hold  it  there  a  few  days,  possibly ; 
but  the  rigor  will  be  far  from  Siberian.  The  Win- 
ter climate  of  the  Sound — the  average  temperature 
being  thirty-nine  degrees — "  is  milder  than  that  of 
Washington  City,  lying  eight  degrees  farther  south 
than  Tacoma."  The  Winters  are  less  severe  even,  than 
in  Eastern  Washington,  as  are  the  Summers  cooler. 
Two  causes  conduce  to  this  constant  moderate 
temperature  of  the  coast  from  San  Francisco  to 
Sitka.  These  are  the  south-west  trade-winds  and 
the  Kuro  Sivo,  or  Japan  Warm  Stream.  Hon.  S. 
Garfield,  a  former  delegate  to  Congress  from  the 
Territory,  and  for  twenty  years  a  resident  of  the 
Pacific  Slope,  says,  in  an  article  on  the  climate  of 
Puget  Sound :    "As   far   north   as    the    forty-ninth 


A  liAINY  SEASON. 


451 


parallel  flowers  bloom,  and  vogctaV)le  life  is  vigor- 
ous uncil  far  into  the  Winter.  Frost  seldom  con- 
tinues longer  than  from  four  to  fifteen  days.  lUit 
little  snow  falls,  not  enough  to  obstruct  locomotion, 
and  ice  suitable  for  domestic  uses  is  the  exception." 

The  existence  of  the  Gulf  Stream,  or  warm 
river,  which,  with  a  constant  tendency  toward  the 
north-east,  flows  along  our  Atlantic  sea-board  not 
far  out  from  shore,  is  a  fact  well  known  to  most 
readers.  But  that  southward  along  our  entire 
western  coast,  there  ever  surges  a  warmer  current, 
compared  with  which  the  Gulf  Stream  is  as  noth- 
ing in  extent,  very  few  persons  are  awiirc  For 
this  reason,  and  because  it  naturally  attaches  to 
the  subject  of  climate,  upon  which  we  are  speak- 
ing, I  devote  a  page  or  two  to  the  vast  "Black 
River"  of  the  Pacific,  as  the  stream  is  called  by  the 
Japanese,  on  account  of  the  intense  blue  of  its 
waters.  For  information  on  the  subject,  I  am  in- 
debted chiefly  to  an  able  work  on  the  oceanic  currents, 
by  ^lisee  R6clus,  and  entitled  "R6clus's  Ocean." 
I  condense  his  ample  treatment  of  the  subject  to  the 
narrow  limits  afforded  by  this  book,  and  therewith 
mingle  some  important  remarks  by  Mr.  Garfield, 
presenting  all  in  my  own  phraseology. 

In  equatorial  latitudes  the  water  of  the  great 
oceans  is  heated  to  such  a  degree,  by  the  fervor  of 
the  sun's  rays,  that  vast  quantities  of  the  fluid  rise, 
iu  the  form   of  vapor,  into  the  cool   strata  of  the 


452 


WA  SHING  TON  TERRI'l  OR  Y. 


ill!  1 


i    '-is  ': 


t 

4—      -  -   i 
I 


atmosphere.  Here  a  portion  soon  condenses,  and 
returns  to  the  ocean  in  the  form  of  rain.  But  a 
large  part  of  it  is  borne  off  by  aerial  currents,  to  fall 
upon  seas  and  continents  far  distant.  The  amount 
of  water  so  displaced,  is  estimated  to  equal  one 
hundred  and  twenty  trillion  cubic  yards  annually. 
This  enormous  displacement  by  evaporation  leaves 
an  immense  void  in  the  oceans.  For  filling  this  va- 
cancy Nature  has  various  schemes.  One  of  them — 
that  in  which  we  are  now  interested — is  the  pour- 
ing into  the  equatorial  basins  a  mass  of  water  from 
the  polar  seas,  where  the  annual  loss  by  evaporation 
is  much  exceeded  by  the  annual  supply  of  rain, 
snow,  and  melted  ice.  This  superabundance  of 
fluid  at  the  poles,  constantly  tends  toward  the  tor- 
rid zone,  in  two  currents,  one  from  the  south,  the 
other  from  the  north,  meeting  each  other  in  both 
the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  Oceans,  and  thence  de- 
scribing regular  orbits  through  the  seas,  as  do  the 
heavenly  bodies  through  space. 

Do  these  ocean  rivers  bear  to  the  void  at  the 
equator  just  enough  water  to  fill  it?  No.  They 
carry  too  much.  Now  let  us  see  what  then  hap- 
pens. Upon  their  arrival  in  tropical  latitudes,  they 
encounter  a  third  tremendous  current.  Whence  is 
that?  The  earth,  revolving  on  its  axis,  turns  from 
west  to  east.  At  the  equator,  and  for  some  distance 
north  and  south  of  it,  this  motion  starts  a  current 
of  water  westward  in  both  oceans.     The  polar  cur- 


T 


A  RATNY  SEASOS\ 


4r)3 


rents,  in  tlieir  respective  journeys,  northward  aiul 
Boiifliward,  cross  latitudes  where  the  speed  of  the 
earth's  rotation  is  gieater  thait  tlieir  own  vehtcity. 
This  deflects  them  toward  liie  west,  so  tiiat,  arriving 
in  the  tropics,  they  strike  the  equatorial  current 
obliquely,  and  uniting  therewith  they  form  one 
mighty  oceanic  river  bound  across  the  Pacific  in  a 
nearly  straight  line,  the  earth  contributing -to  its 
momentum,  by  its  motion  in  the  opposite  direction. 
Thus  is  produced  the  great  equatorial  current  of 
the  globe. 

In  the  Pacific,  the  stream  known  as  "Hum- 
boldt's Current"  joins  the  magnificent  tide  about 
opposite  Peru.  Thence,  in  a.  straight  line,  the  triune 
river  proceeds  on  its  triumphant  march  of  at  least 
two-thirds  the  distance  around  the  globe,  its  mean 
width  being  not  less  than  thirty-five  hundred  miles, 
or,  extending  from  the  twenty-sixth  degree  of  south 
latitude  to  the  twenty-fourth  of  north  latitude, 
and  its  average  speed  being  nineteen  miles  per  day. 
In  some  places,  at  certain  seasons,  it  attains  a  ve- 
locity twice  as  great.  By  its  movement  is  displaced 
an  immense  quantity  of  water  from  one  end  of  the 
globe  to  the  other,  roughly  estimated  at  twenty 
trillion  cubic  yards  daily.  At  the  fwint  of  junction 
"with  Humboldt's  Current  it  is  known  to  proceed,  en 
masse,  with  a  depth  of  at  least  one  mile. 

Reaching  the  shores  of  Asia  and  Australia,  the 

vast  stream  divides,  throwing  out   broad  branches 

:{9 


454 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


i'     I  '111 


^ji  !  Si 


'^^i. 


K' 


toward  either  pole.  The  miglity  body  which  sweeps 
iiortlnvard,  turned  aside  by  New  Guinea,  the  Pl)il- 
ippine  Islands,  and  the  cluster  lying  off  the  coast 
of  China,  bends  to  the  north-east.  When  opposite 
Yeddo,  in  the  Island  of  Niphon,  its  temperature  is 
from  ten  to  twelve  degrees  higher  than  the  still 
water  through  which  it  flows.  In  passing  this 
island,  the  current — now  become  the  Kuro  Sivo  of 
the  Japanese — deflects  more  decidedly  toward  the 
north-east,  and  "spreading  out  over  a  vast  expanse 
of  ocean,  loses  in  depth,  proportionally  as  it  gains 
in  breadth." 

North  of  Japan  the  Kuro  Sivo  is  njct  oblicpiely 
by  an  Arctic  current  emerging  from  the  Sea  of 
Okhotsk,  on  its  way  to  in  part  replace  the  void  at 
the  tropics.  In  the  same  manner  does  the  Atlantic 
(Julf  Stream  encounter,  below  the  Banks  of  New- 
foundland, a  cold,  deep  tide  from  the  polar  sea. 
In  both  oceans,  banks  of  thick  fog  signalize  the 
meeting  of  the  cold  and  warra  waters.  Like  the 
Gulf  Stream  the  Kuro  Sivo  is  "compounded  of 
liquid  bands  of  unequal  temperature,  flowing  beside 
each  other,  above  the  same  liquid  bed."  For  cen- 
turies before  the  seamen  of  the  Western  world  had 
knowledge  of  the  latter  current,  Japanese  navigators 
well  understood  its  influence  upon  climate,  and  its 
imp({i'tance  in  coast-wise  voyages. 

The  great  mass  of  the  Black  River,  warmed  by 
long   sojourn    under  a   tropical   sun,    traverses   the 


A  RAISY  SEASOX. 


455 


Northern  Pacific  from  west  to  cast,  until,  arriving 
under  the  Aleutian  Islands,  it  divides,  the  larj^er 
portion  making  a  graceful  curve  below  the  Penin- 
sula of  Alaska,  whence  h  herMj  southward  and 
skirts  the  coast  of  British  Cohunbia,  Washington 
Territory,  Oregon,  and  California,  imparting  to  most 
of  our  own  shore  a  Spring-like  temperature  even  in 
midwinter.  It  continues  as  an  off-shore  current, 
until,  breaking  upon  Cape  Mendocino,  in  Northern 
California,  it  sends  an  immense  branch  northward, 
as  an  in-shore  eddy,  while  the  nmin  body  journeys 
on  toward  the  void  at  the  equator,  again  to  augment 
the  great  mid  ocean  river. 

The  division  thrown  off  at  the  Aleutian  Islands, 
presses  its  way  through  Beh ring's  Strait,  then  east- 
ward through  the  Arctic  Ocean,  southward  through 
Baffin's  Bay  rn^^  Davis  Strait,  and  onward  along 
our  Atlantic  Coast — bringing  down  a  rich  cargo  of 
icebei^s  and  crisp  fish — until  it  collides  with  the 
Gulf  Stream  under  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland, 
sinks  under  the  shock  into  deep-sea  waters,  and 
thence  hurries  southward  to  make  up  the  deficiency 
at  the  equator.  Similarly  does  Humboldt's  Current 
bring  up  from  Antarctic  lands  a  mot'ey  lading  of 
stones,  icebergs,  and  curious  dibris. 

In  the  Southern  Hemisphere,  counterpart 
branches  of  the  equatorial  current  describe  equally 
wonderful  circuits.  Thus,  daily,  are  moved  back 
and  forth,  all  the  large  waters  of  the  earth.     Inex- 


f 


Si 


5i. 


W<! 


•  4 


BBH 


;ih 


45fi 


WASHTNGTON  TEUBTTORY. 


li 


orable  are  the  laws  which  make  the  ocean  restless. 
Agitate  they  must.  Stagnant  they  can  never  be- 
come. How  amazing  is  this  provision  for  the 
welfare  of  man  ! 

Throughout  its  route  of  many  thousand  miles 
the  Northern  Pacific  Warm  Stream  parts  with  but 
little  of  its  caloric.  From  the  Queen  Charlotte 
Islands  to  San  Francisco,  a  distance  of  more  than  a 
thousand  miles,  it  declines  barely  two  degrees  in 
temperature. 

Probably  the  climatic  conditions  of  no  other 
portion  of  the  coast  are  so  decidedly  influenced  by 
the  Kuro  Sivo  as  is  the  Puget  Sound  Valley,  and 
for  this  reason.  In  its  totality  the  Sound  embraces 
an  area  of  two  thousand  square  miles.  The  depth 
of  its  waters  is  very  great.  It  has  an  "  average 
tidal  rise  of  about  sixteen  feet,"  Every  day  this 
surging  tide  brings  into  and  carries  out  of  this 
ramification  of  bays,  inlets,  and  channels  a  quantity 
of  water  estimated  at  five  thousand  million  cubic 
yards.  In  Summer,  when  other  conditions  would 
exalt  the  temperature  to  90°,  this  prodigious  mass 
of  liquid,  heated  only  to  52°,  pours  in  daily,  absorbs 
the  surplus  heat  of  the  atmosphere,  and  gives  to 
Western  Oregon  and  Washington  their  fine  Summer 
climate;  while  in  Winter,  aided  by  the  south-west 
winds,  it  holds  the  average  temperature  at  thirty- 
nine  degrees.  Thus  is  the  accommodating  body  both 
a  furnace  and  a  refrigerator,  as  the  season  requires. 


A  HAINY  SEASOX. 


457 


From  this  it  must  not  be  inferretl  that  lires  are 
indispensable  in  Spring  and  Autumn.  In  family- 
gathering  rooms  they  are  recjuired  of  evenings  from 
September  to  June.  For  fuel,  both  coal  and  wood — 
oak,  alder,  maple,  fir,  and  especially  the  thick  bark 
of  the  latter — are  employed.  IMaced  endwise  in 
grates,  this  rich  resinous  bark  snaps  and  crackles, 
and  quickly  bursts  into  flame,  throwing  out  an  in- 
tense heat,  and  finely  illuminating  a  room.  But 
laid  lengthwise  and  compactly, as  unskilled  liridgets 
80  often  build  fires  in  stoves,  it  sulks,  sputters, 
shows  a  deal  of  obstinacy,  and  finally,  unless  given 
large  doses  of  fresh  oxygen,  goes  out  altogether. 
When  required  to  help  cook  it  prefers  the  company 
of  coke  or  coal,  and  will  soon  set  the  whole  aglow, 
enabling  the  delayed  servant  to  hasten  her  meal  and 
save — her  master's  temper.  In  the  vicinity  of  the 
Sound,  fir-tree  bark  now  sells  at  three  dollars  per  cord. 

Cousin  germain  to  the  weather  is  the  subject  of 
fogs,  and  nowhere  in  the  world  can  the  vapory 
topic  be  more  deserving  of  adjectives  than  in  this 
valley.  Indeed,  to  a  Buckeye,  from  the  lakeshore 
section  of  his  State,  where  a  genuine  fog  makes  its 
appearance  barely  once  in  a  year,  those  to  be  seen  on 
the  Sound  are  something  truly  remarkable.  Let  nI^. 
cite,  for  instance,  the  one  which  at  this  moment  has 
the  freedom  of  the  ("ity — not  presented,  but  taken.  It 
is  a  dense,  whitish-gray,  luminous — fur  the  sun  is 
shining — visitant,  which  stole  in  during  tlif  night, 


4 


II  ?(. 


mmtmmm'mKm 


458 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


^■Inn 


1      M 

j     ■  ' 


;^ 


111' 
I 


ontwitMng  a  frost,  and  giving  the  flowers  longer 
lease  of  life.  Most  industriously  lias  it  worked. 
Gone  are  all  the  neighbor's  dwellings,  except  one. 
The  city  is  blotted  out.  Mountain,  valley,  and 
forest  arc  obliterated.  Out  of  doors,  everywhere, 
absence  is.  On  such  mornings  the  people  bestir 
themselves  slowly  and  get  to  business  tardily.  In 
an  hour  or  two  tho  sun  will  triumph,  and  away  will 
float  the  vapor.  As  it  goes  beautiful  scenes  may 
be  witnessed.  On  the  Sound,  over  the  valley,  among 
the  distant  forest-trees,  it  will  rise  up,  take  on  multi- 
farious shapes,  and  will  scud  away  before  the  growing 
breeze,  whirling  and  tumbling  like  so  many  wild 
children  of  the  air.  The  sides  of  some,  the  tops  of 
others,  the  sun  will  tint  with  glory.  Many  will 
lengthen  out  into  fleecy  pennants,  and  wind  here 
and  there  among  the  dark  firs,  as  if  they  were 
snowy  streamers  borne  by  the  "spirits  of  the  wood," 
as  the  Germans  would  say.  But  the  finest  exhibi- 
tion will  take  place  among  the  foot-hills  lying  oif 
eastward.  Look '  now !  Suddenly  in  a  hundred 
places?  the  fog  rises  up  in  foamy  clouds,  all  radiant 
with  the  new  sunlight.  See  how  they  wave,  and 
vault,  and  dart,  a  company  of  aerial  gymnasts,  out 
on  a  mad  frolic,  no  feat  too  difficult  for  them  to 
perform.  Now  look  !  Quickly  and  forever  they  have 
left  the  scene. 

One  more  sketch,  and  we  have  done  with  this  airy 
subject.     On  some  clear  morning  in>me<liately  after 


A  RAINY  SEASON. 


450 


the  s»in  has  climbed  tlie  ('aHca(leH,<)ver  the  n<»rth  side 
of  Mount  Tacotna  small  bodies  of  .snowy  mist  will 
begin  to  ascend  from  all  over  the  conntry  Ixtwccn 
the  city  and  the  mountains.  At  first  they  will  ds- 
cillate  slowly,  as  if  still  tethered  to  the  ground. 
Then  gaining  the  more  rarefied  air,  they  will  incline', 
roll  over  and  over  rapidly,  and  shoot  otf,  some  in 
this  direction,  others  in  thai.  The  display  usually 
lastii  but  a  short  time. 


,v^i-i*-. 


■•'V  v  : '  •■ 


rvriwrmm.-' 


ESHI 


■ 


I  *"  i 


,K1 "" 

•J         S 


■  m  : 


I 


,! 


i 
il 

li! 


XI<VII. 
F^ops  Sui^NiNG  INTO  Soil. 

A    VISIT  To    ONE    OK    THE    HOP-KARMS    OF 
THE    F>UYALLUP. 


ON  the  Pnyullii|)  Uiver,  eighteen  miles  from  Ta- 
euma,  there  lies  a  beautiful  farm  coutainiug 
jibout  three  hundred  acres,  something  like  seventy 
(tf  which  are  planted  with  hops.  Early  in  Decem- 
ber an  opportunity  was  oifered  me  to  visit  the  place 
in  company  with  the  proprietor  and  his  wife.  The 
Northern  Pacific  Railway  j)asses  the  premises  within 
one  mile  of  the  dwelling;  but,  scorning  such  or- 
dinary means  of  locomotion,  we  made  the  jaunt  in 
a  double  wagon,  behind  two  rarely  thoughtful  and 
conscientious  mules.  They  were  thoughtful  as  to 
liow  they  could  avoid  traveling  off  a  moderate  walk, 
and  conscientious  in  sending  the  wheels  to  the 
bottom  of  every  deep  rut  on  the  way. 

Residing  in  town,  the  family  keep  the  house  on 
the  place  open  only  during  the  season  of  cultivating 
and  harvesting  the  hops.  This  period  closes  about 
the  last  of  Septemi)er.  Since  that  time,  this  year, 
the  abode  has  been  in  charge  of  two  young  men, 
who  leave  it  about  sunrise  to  attend  to  their  labors, 

and  return  at  nightfall,  the  proprietor  paying  but  an 
4U0 


HOPa  TURNING  INTO  SOIL. 


461 


occasional  visit  to  the  place  to  look  after  matters 
generally.  It  was  therefore  necessary  for  our  comfort 
while  there,  to  take  with  us  an  ample  supply  of  pro- 
visions, some  clean  bed-clot hiiif;,  and  siiitahle  table 
appointments.  Accordingly  soon  after  breakfast,  on 
the  day  designated,  began  the  work  of  eollecting 
the  articles  required.  Forth  they  came,  from  every 
room  in  the  house,  including  garret  and  cellar. 
Altogether,  they  (Mtmposed  as  varied  an  accumula- 
tion as  ever  gravitated  together^  in  one  vehicle, 
unless  we  except  in  an  emigrant  wagon. 

By  ten  o'clock  the  cargo,  omitting  the  human 
portion,  had  been  Avedged  in,  the  provident  hostess 
carefully  superintending  the  proceedings.  Stepping 
out  then  to  take  my  seat  with  the  others  behind  the 
dashing  pair,  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  by  my 
friend  turning  to  me  and  saying — her  face  wearing 
a  look  of  extreme  disdain  : 

"I  am  not  going  to  ride  through  this  ci^y  in 
such  a  vehicle,  behind  these  mu!  iS." 

"Pray,  why  not?"  I  exclain  td. 

"My  pride  is  not  to  be  cured  with  such  reme- 
dies," or  something  equivalent  to  that,  was  the 
laconic  reply.  "  You  and  I  will  walk  out  to  the 
mill  at  the  head  of  the  bay,  where,  in  the  course 
of  time,  they  will  arrive,  and  we  can  get  in." 

The  "they"  referred  to,  were  her  husband  and 
their  young  son  Harry,  a  lad  of  about  thirteen  yearn, 
who,  carrving   over   his   shoulder   an   old   Engliah 


I 


•T^ 


462 


WASniNOTON  TERRITORY. 


ti    ' 


Vi 


I 


shot-giiii,  /V//  jiniiizin^ly  soldirr-liUc,  however  little 
lie  may  Imve  looked  so.  The  purpose  to  he  served 
by  tiie  ancient  fo\vling-j)ieee  was  the  killinjjf  of  hliie- 
jays,  thnt  rapacious  bird  being  the  express  (»bji>(;t  of 
every  Washinfiton  farmer's  ire.  For  his  efforts  to- 
ward exterminating  the  odious  brood,  th»  youthful 
Nimrod  was  to  receive  five  cents  per  capita,  from 
his  mother,  who  appreciates  how  a  little  enconrage- 
tuent  helps  to  valiant  doing. 

.The  "  mill,"  which  was  to  become  the  rendezvous 
tor  the  party,  buz/cd  and  whirred  nearly  a  mile 
away,  and  the  road  thitlier  le<l  by  no  means  through 
tnchanting  scenes.  Ncvertiieless  1  acijniesced,  and 
tt»ward  the  spot  we  two  directed  our  steps.  Gain- 
ing the  outskirts  of  the  (Mty,  we  threaded  our  way 
down  a  long  hillside  studded  with  prodigious 
stumps,  and  thence  past  the  gas-works,  a  saw-mill 
or  two,  a  furniture  factory,  and  other  such  premises, 
reaching  our  meeting  point  long  before  our  fellow- 
travelers,  with  their  nimble  team.  Seeking  the 
proprietor  of  the  mill,  we  gave  the  interval  to 
taking  notes  upon  the  flour  industry  of  Western 
Washington,  which  we  found  to  have  a  promising 
outlook  for  the  future,  though  the  amount  manu- 
factured is  less  than  that  made  in  the  Walla  Walla 
Viilicy.  The  mill  is  a  valuable  one,  and  the  owner, 
an  intelligent  Scotchman,  evidently  knows  how  to 
make  good  flour,  and,  also,  how  to  make  money. 
Taking  our  seats  upon  the  arrival  of  the  carriage, 


1 


H 


HOPS  TURNING  INTO  SOIL. 


463 


we  were  soon  winding  nronnd  the  base  of  the  lofty 
blufTs,  wliicli,  on  the  right,  define  the  fertile  valley 
of  the  Pnyallnp.  The  first  mile  hronght  us  to  the 
"Ageney"  of  the  Pi^vallnp  Indian  Reservation, 
under  tin;  superintendency  of  Mr.  Edwin  Eolls, 
for  fourteen  years  a  representative  of  the  govern- 
ment in  the  Indian  serviee  of  the  North-west. 
Praetieally,  Mr.  Eells  has  spent  his  life  among 
the  Red  Men  of  Washington,  his  father,  Rev. 
dishing  Eells,  D.  D.,  having  been  one  of  the  ear- 
liest missionaries  to  the  natives  of  the  Paeilie  Coast. 
Though  now  a  man  far  advanced  in  years,  he  is 
still  faithfully  at  work  among  IiIm  beloved  tribes 
east  of  the  Cascades,  ever  practicing,  it  is  said,  the 
utmost  frugality  in  personal  expenses,  that  he  may 
have  the  more  to  devote  to  their  welfare.  Rev. 
Myron  Eells,  a  second  son,  is  also  a  missicinary  to 
tribes  re.*?ident  near  the  Sound. 

At  the  Puyallnp  Agency  are  to  be  seen  two 
small  churches,  one  Catholic,  the  other  Presbyterian, 
both  of  which  are  quite  well  attended  by  these  wards 
of  the  government;  a  prosperous  boarding-school 
for  the  training  of  their  children ;  a  quaint  cemetery, 
in  which  repose  their  dead;  and  the  gardens  and 
residences  of  the  officers,  and  some  other  buildings, 
where,  I  believe,  certain  manual  labors  are  taught. 
For  five  miles  our  route  lay  through  the  wonderfully 
j.roductive  acres  of  this  reservation,  than  which 
the  great  Territory  contains  none  more  so.     A  niim- 


I 


fi 


f 

r 


I! 


i 


''  ti 

;  -*'■ 

unii^ 

mL^:- 

a 


o 
p. 
6 

01 

O 

< 


■  '.'.lit 


"    1' 


HOI'S  rvnyrxG  into  soil 


4<)0 


ber  of  Indinus  cultivate  pmiiU  farms  within  tlic 
tract,  and  hold  patents  for  them,  hut  in  most  in- 
stances their  .system  of  farming  would  shocU  nn 
Illinois  hushandman.  There  are  exceptions  to  the 
rule,  but  I  have  been  told  that,  as  a  general  thinp, 
the  Pugct  Sound  tribes  lack  application,  and  years 
must  pass  before  they  will  be  found  conducting  an 
intelligent,  vigorous,  and  remunerative  system  of 
tillage. 

Eleven  miles  from  the  city  we  entered  the  thriv- 
ing village  of  Puyallup,  on  the  Northern  Pacific 
Road.  The  place  is  a  noted  shi|tping  point  for 
hops — is,  indeed,  the  center  of  the  Puget  Sound 
hop  district,  which  extends  from  beyond  the  Skagit 
River  on  the  north  to  the  Cowlitz  on  the  soutii,  a 
distance  of  nearly  two  hundred  nliles.  In  Puyallup 
are  to  be  seen  the  home  and  large  hop-farn»  of  Ezra 
Meeker,  the  commissioner  o'  the  Territory  to  the 
Exposition  at  New  Orleans,  in  1884-85,  and  the 
largest  hop-grower  ot  the  region,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  an  organized  company  operating  on  the 
Snoqualmie  River,  with  about  three  hundred  acres 
in  vines.  Mr.  Meeker  devotes  about  one  hundred 
and  eighty  acres  to  the  industry.  Of  these,  over  one 
hundred  are  at  Puyallup,  and  the  remainder  in  the 
White  River  Valley,  farther  north.  He  began  cul- 
tivating the  bitter  product  in  1868,  by  putting  three 
acres  into  vines.  Of  his  fifteen  kilns  for  curing 
the  fruit,  ten  adorn  this  little  village  and  vicinity, 


Pi 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


V 


/ 


O 


{/ 


•'i^°  #?  ^  ///„ 


<;.  \° 


Q>- 


Q>r 


V 


i/s 


V. 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


,J45 
50 


IIM 

IIIM 

IIM 

[(4  0 


IM 

2.2 
2.0 


U    III  1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


■^ 


\ 


\\ 


"% 


V 


6^ 


<» 


"^ 


<!#\v 


<i 


r^^ 


0". 


i/l 


1 


sm 


466 


IK. ISHIXG TON  TER/ilTOR Y. 


seveiiil  being  in  full  view,  as  we  trot  through  the 
inviting-looking  town.  Mr.  Meeker  is  one  of  the 
progressive  men  of  the  Territory.  Enterprises  com- 
mitted to  his  supervision  are  sure  to  proceed. 

It  is  quite  relevant  to  mention  here,  that  among 
the  Washington  products  exhibited  by  Mr.  Meeker 
at  New  Orleans,  was  a  splendid  sample  of  beet- 


(', 


k 


,a,   I 


'3' 


S; .; 


Hop-Kilns,  Puyallup  Valley. 

sugar,  of  a  thousand  pounds  weight.  The  article 
was  manufactured  from  yellow  beets  grown  in  the 
White  River  Valley.  They  were  immense  in  size, 
tender,  juicy,  remarkably  free  from  woody  fiber, 
and  contained  a  large  pet-centage  of  saccharine  mat- 
ter. These  qualities  distinguish  most  vegetables 
raised  in  the  Sound  Basin,  and  are  due  to  the  moist 
climate,  the  exceeding  fertility  of  the  soil,  and  the 
absence  of  lime  in  the  water.     In  this  vicinity  lime 


HOPS  TURNING  INTO  SOIL. 


467 


deposit  never  forms  in  the  tea-kettles.  Mr.  Meeker's 
experiment  with  the  beets  was  made  simply  to 
show  what  jiossibilities  exist  in  that  direction,  this 
side  the  Cascade  Mountains.  The  Territory  not 
atJbrding  facilities  for  manufacturing  the  sugar,  the 
vegetable  was  shipped  to  San  Francisco  for  the 
purpose. 

The  soil  of  the  river  valleys  of  the  Sound  is 
a  rich,  black,  alluvial  deposit,  of  a  depth  unascer- 
tained in  some  places,  and  is  the  product  of  ages  of 
washings  from  the  mountains,  and  the  annual  decay 
of  an  exceedingly  luxuriant  vegetation.  It  is  as- 
serted that  from  twelve  to  fifteen  feet  below  the 
present  surface,  on  which  stand  trees  whose  age  is 
marked  by  centuries,  have,  in  several  instances, 
been  uncovered  the  stumps  of  giant  trees,  supposed 
to  have  been  felled  by  a  people  long  anterior  to  the 
Indians.  With  such  ground  to  till,  it  is  not  at  all 
surprising  that  Washington  farmers  anticipate  a 
future  of  great  prosperity. 

.Some  two  miles  beyond  Puyallup  lies  Sumner, 
a  three-year-old  community,  settled  down  in  the 
midst  of  picturesque  scenery,  with  a  good  school- 
house  and  pretty  church  among  its  pleasant  features. 
Every  thing  around  shows  that  the  inhabitants  are 
full  of  vim. 

Going  onward,  we  passed  a  hop-farm  occasionally, 
but  the  crop  having  been  gathered,  few  of  them 
looked  trim  and  tidy.     Hop-poles  stood  leaning  in 


WASHING  TON  TERRITOR  Y. 

all  directions,  and  at  all  sorts  of  angles,  or  lay  pros- 
trate on  the  ground.  Finally,  the  sun  gone  down, 
and  the  gloom  of  night  gathering  about  us,  we 
passed  through  a  lofty  gateway,  and  drew  up  beside 
a  green  terrace,  on  which  stood  our  home  for  the 
next  three  days. 

The  bachelor  housekeepers  had  just  returned 
from  work  on  a  country  roadway,  and  not  expecting 
company,  were  for  a  few  moments  at  their  wits'  end. 
But  when  they  discovered  the  tempting  provisions 
we  had  brought,  and  perceived  with  what  magic 
two  women  can  convert  a  cold,  dark  house  into  a 
scene  of  cheer  and  comfort,  they  took  heart,  and 
appeared  to  be  really  glad  we  had  come.  "In  less 
than  no  time"  bright  fires  of  thick  fir-bark  were 
glowing  and  snapping  on  three  hearths,  and  on  the 
kitchen-stove  sang  the  tea-kettle,  its  strains  far 
sweeter  to  hungry  people  than  those  of  the  Puyal- 
lup  surging  by,  a  few  rods  from  the  door.  Soon 
all  were  seated  at  a  bountiful  board,  and,  however 
much   it  lacked   silver,  delicate  china,  and  crystal, 

« 

none  around  it  lacked  appetite,  nor  gratitude  to 
Him  from  whose  fud  hand  came  all  the  good. 

The  meal  over,  the  young  husbandmen  courte- 
ously offered  to  "  wash  the  dishes,"  and  the  women 
as  courteously  let  them,  while  themselves  arrayed 
the  beds,  always  reseryed  for  the  family's  use,  in 
fresh  linen,  well  aired  before  one  of  the  blazing 
fires.     These    things    done,   the   household   quieted 


HOPS  TURNING  INTO  SOIL. 


469 


down  for  an  evening's  enjoyment,  the  proprietor  in 
the  sitting-room  talking  over  farm  matters  with 
"  the  boys,"  and  my  friend  and  myself  in  a  cozy 
apartmei  r,  chatting  over  Phebe  Hanaford's  '*  Daugh- 
ters of  America,"  which  I  found  on  the  mantel. 
Within  it  were  sketches  of  the  life  and  character 
of  such  women  as  Mrs.  Eliza  Garfield,  Mrs.  Lucre- 
tia  R.  .Garfield,  Mrs.  Lucy  W.  Hayes,  Mrs.  Judge 
Thompson,  first  leader  in  the  grand  \V.  C.  T.  U. 
movement,  and  the  well-known  authoress,  Sarah 
Knowles  Bolton,  besides  many  more  who  have 
acquitted  themselves  nobly  in  the  different  fields  in 
which  they  have  labored.  Thus,  in  that  tiny  cot- 
tage, far  out  on  this  western  verge  of  the  continent, 
did  we  while  away  a  long  evening  with  ou:-  coun- 
try-women good  and  true. 

Next  morning,  as  the  sun  peered  above  the 
bluff  bounding  the  farm  on  the  east,  I  stepped  out- 
side the  cottage  to  acquaint  myself  with  the  sur- 
roundings. How  strangely  primeval !  How  rank 
the  vegetation!  How  humid  the  atmosphere!  were 
my  first  thoughts.  A  dense  growth  of  fine  grass 
carpeted  the  terrace  as  with  velvet.  On  the  slender 
blades  poised  a  thousand  liquid  globes,  which  threw 
back  the  sunlight  as  only  dew-drops  can.  Pressing 
my  foot  down  into  the  velvet,  I  quickly  drew  it 
back,  wet  and  cold.  Then,  to  add  to  the  impression 
of  humidity,  came  the  deep  notes  of  the  river,  hur- 
rying by  on  its  way  to  the  Sound.     From  close  to 

40 


in 


i 


m 


'  ..4 


r 


It   I 


i 


it' 


I'. 


'5  il 

A  ! 


\\\ 


in 

ill 


i  t 


470 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


the  house,  iu  the  rear,  stretched  acres  of  hop-vines, 
back  nearly  to  the  bluff.  They  fell  in  rich  brown 
festoons  from  the  top  of  long  poles,  and  were  laden 
with  scaly  fruitage.  "How  was  that?"  From  all 
that  mass  of  luxuriant  vines  not  a  single  hop  had 
been  harvested.  "  Why  not  ?"  Simply  because  at 
the  picking  season  the  prices  offered  for  the  product 
were,  in  the  opinion  of  the  owner,  too  depressed  to 
pay  for  harvesting.  Several  thousand  dollars  had 
been  put  into  the  cultivation  of  the  crop.  The 
gathering  and  curing  would  cost  several  thousand 
more^  and  as  he  believed,  would  add  nothing  to  his 
fortune.  So  here  hung  the  rich  brown  pendants  by 
the  million — by  the  acre.  Later  in  the  season  the 
whole  will  fall  to  the  ground,  and  next  Spring 
will  be  plowed  under,  making  a  fine  fertilizer  for 
the  already  affluent  soil.  On  these  same  acres  the 
crop  sold  last  year  for  nearly  fourteen  thousand 
dollars. 

The  average  yield  per  acre  in  any  of  these  ex- 
tremely fertile  valleys  is  from  eighteen  to  twenty 
thousand  pounds.  In  specially  favored  districts  it 
easily  reaches  one-third  more,  while  on  light  or  im- 
poverished lands  it  may  drop  to  one  thousand 
pounds.  In  some  parts  of  the  country  considerable 
enthusiasm  has  been  awakened  in  reference  to  hop- 
culture  in  Western  Washington ;  but  an  ill-advised 
step  it  would  most  likely  prove  for  a  man  comfort- 
ably situated  in  the  East  to  emigrate  to  the  coast  to 


HOPS  TURNING  INTO  SOIL. 


471 


engage  in  the  pursuit.  Land  of  the  best  grade  in 
any  of  the  hop-growing  localities  is  held  at  a  very 
high  figure.  It  is  an  expensive  crop  to  cultivate, 
and  the  region  is  too  remote  from  the  great  hop- 
markets  of  the  world.  Some  seasons  find  the  mar- 
kets already  overstocked,  whereupon  prices  decline 
to  a  discouraging  figure,  and  expenses  are  barely 
paid.  It  is  not  a  lare  thing,  I  learn,  for  growers 
to  borrow  money  at  a  ruinous  interest,  and  for  a 
limited  time,  to  secure  their  harvest.  They  are 
therefore  forced  to  sell.  The  brokers  always  un- 
derstand, and  are  sure  to  take  advantage  of  the  cir- 
cumstances, by  offering  for  the  product  a  most 
beggarly  sum. 

The  owner  of  this  rancho,  who  has  devoted  eight 
years  to  the  industry,  has  had  variable  success. 
His  first  profit,  from  the  five  and  a  half  acres 
with  which  he  began,  was  enormous,  the  whole 
yield  having  been  marketed  in  New  York,  instead 
of  London,  at  twenty-five  cents  per  pound.  One 
year,  by  the  loss  of  the  vessel  on  which  it  was 
shipped,  his  total  harvest  went  down  in  the  Strait 
of  Juan  de  Fuca.  What  a  wholesale  mingling  of 
tonics  was  that!  From  the  infusion,  every  fish  in 
the  Pacific  must  have  acquired  strength  to  circum- 
navigate the  globe.  But  even  so  effective  a  result 
afforded  small  consolation  to  the  unfortunate  loser. 
Another  season,  owing  to  depression  of  prices,  he 
came  out  of  the  struggle  with  but  one  hundred  and 


I     '3 


f4 


472 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


I'.    ;1 


m;' 


..>li 


I     ) 


■1!^    !l 


!     '      1 


fifty  dollars  as  a  remuneration  for  his  personal  time 
and  care.  And  now,  here  stands  this  crop,  literally 
going  into  the  ground.  Nevertheless  he  has  reaped 
from  these  seventy  acres,  since  engaging  in  the  indus- 
try, the  comfortable  sum  of  forty  thousand  dollars. 

It  is  believed  by  those  who  desire  the  best 
things  for  the  Territory,  that  hop-growing  will 
prove  but  an  incidental  occupation,  in  time  giving 
place  to  fruit-farming.  Of  hops  it  may  be  said,  as 
indeed  of  all  other  products  raised  here,  There  is 
always  a  crop.  Generous  mother  earth  never  fails 
to  respond  munificently  to  the  labors  man  bestows 
upon  the  soil.  This  field  over  which  now  droop 
these  mammoth  hops,  has  been  sown  to  oats  and 
other  grains,  annually,  since  1853!  Never  has  it 
been  treated  to  a  pound  of  fertilizer.  Previous  to 
that  date  the  spot  had  been  cultivated  by  the 
Indians  si:u"3  time  unknown.  Its  yield  of  hops, 
per  acre,  last  year,  was  two  thousand  pounds. 

For  the  work  of  hop-picking,  Indians,  chiefly, 
are  employed.  At  the  season,  they  flock  into  the 
hop-valleys  by  the  thousand,  coming  from  nearly 
every  reservation  in  the  Territory,  from  Vancouver 
Island,  the  main-land  of  British  Columbia,  the 
islands  of  the  Gulf  of  Georgia,  and  from  every 
ramification  of  Puget  Sound.  They  perform  the 
journey  by  every  conceivable  mode — on  foot,  on 
horseback,  in  canoes,  in  every  kind  of  vehicle  on 
wheels.     Some   tribes,  coming   from   the   north  by 


HOPS  TURNING  INTC  SOIL. 


473 


by 


water,  make  the  journey  in  boats  fashioned  with 
great  skill  out  of  a  section  of  the  giant  cedars 
of  those  latitudes.  In  these  craft  can  easily  be 
stowed  away  the  family  tent,  the  cooking  utensils, 
and  the  entire  household  of  persons — ill,  aged, 
and  able. 

By  some  tribes,  parents  and  other  relatives  are 
borne  to  the  hop-fields  from  long  distances,  that 
they  may  have  the  care  which  could  not  be  insured 
them  in  the  absence  of  the  families  to  which  they 
belong.  Not  long  since,  one  of  the  race  appeared 
on  this  farm  accompanied  by  his  mother,  who  was 
not  only  blind  and  aged,  but  really  ill.  Here  the 
son  provided  for  her  as  best  he  could,  the  hospitable 
family  in  the  cottage  supplementing  his  efforts  for 
her  by  daily  acts  of  kindness.  At  the  close  of  the 
picking,  the  woman  received  one  of  the  extra  dollars 
it  is  customary  to  distribute  to  the  workers  as  a  sort 
of  retainer  for  the  next  year.  It  is  a  question  if 
many  of  the  disabled  ones  are  not  brought  to  the 
fields  more  for  this  perquisite  from  the  employers, 
than  for  tender  attentions  from  relatives. 

Most  hop-farmers  appear  to  prefer  Indian  to 
Chinese  help.  Once  at  work,  the  Red  Man  is  as 
reliable,  nimble,  and  indefatigable  as  the  Asiatic. 
And  being  a  native  product,  prejudice  against  him 
is  less  strong  than  against  the  imported  man.  He 
is  at  his  task  by  early  daylight,  and  leaves  it  only 
when  night  hems  him  in. 


;€ 


}i:: 


474 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


After  breakfast  I  was  invited  to  take  a  look  at  the 
sheep,  simply  to  see  how  plump,  clean,  and  healthy 
the  Washington  quadruped  is,  and  how  very  thick, 
fine,  and  long  is  the  coat  of  wool  he  carries  upon  his 
broad  back.  A  sheep  with  a  fleece  spotted  with 
burrs,  twigs,  bits  of  leaves,  and  twists  of  dry  mud, 
would  prove  an  exasperating  sight  to  a  Puget 
Sound  stockman.  He  would  certainly  decline  to 
eat  the  creature,  served  as  mutton,  lest  the  above 
earthly  things  had  defiled  him. 

I  am  here  reminded  that  such  a  structure  as  a 
woolen-mill  does  not  exist  in  Washington  Territory. 
It  is  one  of  the  crying  wants  of  the  Puget  Sound 
district.  Here  is  an  opportunity  for  those  who  are 
crazy  to  go  into  hops,  to  better  invest  their  capital. 

Up  to  date,  absolutely  no  effort  has  been  made 
in  the  Territory  to  raise  the  finer  breeds  of  sheep, 
there  having  been  no  demand  for  the  animal, 
beyond  the  use  of  its  flesh  as  food,  and  of  its  wool 
for  a  few  domestic  purposes.  The  fleece  of  the  na- 
tive variety,  however,  is  remarkable  for  the  length, 
strength,  and  fineness  of  its  fiber. 

Off  a  little  to  one  side  of  this  cottage  stands  a 
capacious  log  house,  utilized,  now,  in  Summer,  as  a 
tenement  for  the  hop-pickers.  It  was  built  many 
years  ago,  and  long  served  as  the  residence  of  the 
proprietor  of  this  valuable  farm.  It  was  known  far 
and  near,  in  that  early  day,  as  a  sure  asylum  for  the 
needy  and  unfortunate.    Never  were  its  doors  closed 


HOPS  TURNIiSO  INTO  SOIL. 


475 


to  man,  woman,  or  child,  appealing  for  help.  Hos- 
pitality unstinted  made  it  a  resort  for  all  classes. 
Emigrants  to  Western  Wasnington,  having  toiled 
across  the  plains  and  over  the  mountains,  looked 
forward  to  this  abode  as  the  spot  where  all  their 
troubles  would  take  flight.  Many  a  settler  in  the 
Puget  Sound  country  can  revert  to  the  day  when 
he  received,  in  that  dwelling,  a  cheering  word,  a 
night's  lodging,  a  small  loan  of  money,  a  supply  of 
provisions,  or  help  in  some  form,  from  its  free- 
hearted owner — Mr.  Van  Ogle. 


II 


m 


wool 
\e  na- 
igth, 


ds  a 
[y,  as  a 
many 
of  the 


lown 


far 


for  the 
s  closed 


xi<vin. 


She  Gi^bat  ©eji^i^itoi^y  and  Its 
i^bsoui^gbs. 


AT  this  point  I  am  tempted  to  remind  the  reader 
of  aT  remark  which  appears  in  the  Preface,  to 
the  effect  that  this  unpretending  book  is  not,  prop- 
erly, a  work  of  travels,  photographing  in  strict  de- 
tail all  the  writer  observed  on  the  western  verge 
of  our  domain,  but  is  rathrr  a  series  of  carefully 
made  sketches  of  the  people,  the  country,  and  its 
manifold  objects  of  interest.  Most  of  the  subjects 
treated  are  such  as  thoroughly  aroused  my  own  in- 
terest, and  in  ...oir  presentation  the  benefit  of  the 
reader  has  never  for  a  moment  been  forgotten. 
Doubtless  topics  which  would  have  edified  the 
farmer,  the  manufacturer,  the  capitalist,  and  dealer 
in  real  estate  have  been  omitted.  Any  disappoint- 
ment such  parties  may  feel  as  they  read  these  pages 
we  shall  more  than  regret;  at  the  same  time,  to  our 
feast,  such  as  it  is,  we  cordially  invite  them.  Com- 
pressed into  this  short  chapter  they  will  find  a  very 
general  description  of  Washington  Territory  and 
its  resources.  It  lacks  particulars  which  some  would 
be  glad  to  see,  but  contains  all  the  facts  thousands 

have  time  to  read. 
476 


ITS  RESOURCES. 


477 


■"%' 


f  the 
otten. 
the 
ealer 
loint- 
pages 
o  our 
Com- 
a  very 
y  and 
would 
usands 


Washington — name  expressive  of  the  thorough 
loyalty  of  the  people — is  a  parvicl  of  land  emhraeing 
the  mere  trifle  of  G9,994  square  miles.  Only  nine 
States  the  size  of  Mas'i  "liusetts,  it  is  elaimed,  can 
be  laid  upon  it  witho.;'  crowding.  Its  greatest 
length  from  east  to  west  is  but  thr>  short  disianne 
of  three  hundred  a..J  sixtv  mi^es,  while  its  average 
breadth  is  two  hundred  ul  J  forty  miles.  The  small 
fraction  of  thirty-ono  hundred  and  fourteen  square 
miles  of  its  surface  is  covered  with  water.  Of 
course,  this  includes  Puget  Sound,  with  ail  its  bays 
and  inlets.  And  somebody  has  figured  that  only 
twenty  million  acres  are  timbered  land.  Ten  thou- 
sand acres  are  prairies  and  plains.  One-half  this 
amount  is  unrivaled  bottom-land.  How  much  is 
coarse,  gravelly  soil,  unfit  for  the  ordinary  purposes 
of  husbandry,  biU  priceless  for  pleasure  parks  and 
drives,  the  mathematicians  forget  to  state,  but  the 
amount  is  very  considerable.  One  hundred  and 
seventy-five  thousand  acres,  reclaimable  only  by 
diking,  lie  near  the  mouths  of  rivers  debouching 
into  the  Sound  and  the  Pacific. 

Oregon  and  the  "Great  River  of  the  West" 
bound  the  T  "ritory  on  the  south  ;  the  forty-ninth 
parallel  and  a  line  running  through  the  Strait  of 
Juan  de  Fuca  separate  it  from  the  queen's  domain 
on  the  north;  the  Pacific  hems  it  in  on  the  west; 
while  mountainous  Idaho  keeps  guard  over  it  toward 

the  sunrise. 

41 


h 


;,  5 


iii 


.ll.'i 


i 


478 


WASHINGTON  TEBRTTORY. 


The  physical  features  of  the  Territory  are  re- 
markably varied.  Several  lofty  mountain  chains 
were  ages  ago  heaved  up  on  its  surface.  Between 
the  coast  and  the  Sound  the  Olympic  range  rears  its 
heads.  The  Cascade  chain  extends  through  the  en- 
tire Territory  west  of  the  middle.  The  south-eastern 
part  is  rendered  picturesque  by  the  Blue  Mountains, 
while  all  across  the  northern  part  Nature  has  tum- 
bled together  an  endless  miscellany  of  hills,  cones, 
spurs,  and  ridges,  interspersed  with  numberless 
sweet  lakes  and  fertile  vales.  Between  the  Cascade 
and  Olympic  ranges  lie  the  w-onderful  "  timber- 
belt  "  and  Puget  Sound.  In  the  former  chain,  not 
many  miles  apart,  rise  the  majestic  snow-cones, 
Adams,  Tacoma,  St.  Helens,  and  Baker,  all  brilliant 
solitaires,  glittering  on  the  bosom  of  mother  Earth. 
Finally,  between  Idaho  and  the  Cascade  Mountains, 
stretches  an  extensive  plain  containing  nearly  forty 
thousand  square  miles  of  the  richest  imaginable 
soil,  and  designated  by  the  various  terms,  "  Inland 
Empire,"  "  Columbia  Basin,"  "  Bunch-grass  Dis- 
trict," and  the  like. 

When  first  traversed  by  white  men,  this  im- 
mense valley  of  the  Columbia  was  supposed  to  be 
utterly  worthless,  except  for  grazing  purposes,  the 
bunch-grass — al  most  its  only  product — being  a  choice 
provender  for  stock.  To-day,  as  has  been  previ- 
ously set  forth,  it  is  one  of  the  celebrated  wheat  re- 
gions of  the  world,  and    a    fruit  district    of  great 


"ii' 


ITS  RESOURCES. 


479 


im- 
be 

the 
joice 
revi- 
|t  re- 

rreat 


promise.  The  composition  of  its  soil  is  peculiar.  Its 
chief  ingredients  are  ashes  and  scorije,  wiiici),  the 
geologist  being  correct,  were  poured  forth  ages  ago 
from  immense  fissures  in  the  Cascade  Mountains. 
From  this  range  have  occurred  several  wide-spread 
eruptions  of  lava,  with  long  intervals  of  time  inter- 
vening. One  of  them,  an  outburst  of  extraordinary 
extent  and  duration,  is  believed  to  have  been  the 
grandest  overflow  of  the  kind  the  earth  has  ever 
witnessed.  It  is  estimated  that  the  inundation  cov- 
ered an  area  of  two  hundred  thousand  square  miles 
of  this  part  of  the  continent.  The  depth  of  the 
deposit  formed  reaches  the  astounding  average  of 
two  thousand  feet.  This  lava  poured  forth  upon  a 
subsoil  of  clay,  which  in  turn  rested  upon  a  bed  of 
basalt,  now  so  far  below  the  surface  as  to  be  visible 
only  along  the  banks  of  the  greater  water-courses. 
This  arrangement  is  plainly  apparent  in  the  tower- 
ing rocks  on  cither  hand,  as  one  passes  through  the 
great  gorge  of  the  Columbia. 

The  Northern  Pacific  Railway  crosses  this  pro- 
lific plain  nearly  diagonally,  maintaining  a  general 
south-westerly  course  after  leaving  Idaho,  until  it 
reaches  Ainsworth,  a  small  town  twelve  miles  north 
of  Wallulu  Junction.  Here  its  main  line,  known 
as  the  "  Cascade  Division " — two  hundred  and 
ninety-two  miles  long — branches  off  in  a  north- 
westerly direction  through  a  remarkably  rich  por- 
tion of  the  Basin  toward  the  Cascade  Mountains, 


m 


uw 


r. 


I    ' 


>'i';fS    (» 


lil''   i 


lU' 


480 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


striking  them  at  a  practicable  pass,  about  east  of 
Tacoma,  its  western  terminus,  and,  pending  the 
completion  of  its  tunnel  through  this  chain,  crosses 
it  by  the  temporary  arrangement  of  a  switch-back 
road.  The  finishing  of  this  division,  practically, 
occurred  in  June  last — 1887.  The  event  was  cele- 
brated in  Tacoma,  early  in  July,  with  splendid  fes- 
tivities, amid  unbounded  rejoicing.  Thus  is  as- 
sured, unless  checked  by  some  untimely  calamity 
of  nature,  the  rapid  settlement  and  development 
of  the  entire  Puget  Sound  region.  It  makes  Ta- 
coma the  outlet  for  not  only  the  vast  growth  of 
cereals  and  other  products  of  the  Columbia  Plain 
and  Walla  Walla  Valley,  naturally  seeking  a  foreign 
market,  but  also  for  the  great  store  of  hops,  coal, 
and  lumber  of  its  own  opulent  neighborhood. 
Through  this  port,  also,  must  pass  multiplied  com- 
modities from  China,  Japan,  and  Corea,  destined  to 
our  Atlantic  cities.  .'  , 

It  is  proper  here  to  mention,  that  a  line  of  rail- 
way, known  as  the  "Bellingham  Bay  and  British 
Columbia  Road,"  is  projected  to  be  built  from  Ta- 
coma to  the  village  of  Whatcom,  on  the  Belling- 
ham Bay.  The  road  will  traverse  the  district  about 
twenty  miles  east  of  the  Sound,  and  will  bear  the 
traveler  to  the  lovely  lake  country  lying  imme- 
diately below  the  British  line,  and  eventually,  no 
doubt,  onward  to  a  junction  with  the  Canadian 
Pacific    Road.     Of  this  genial    northern    part   of 


ITS  RESOURCES. 


481 


Washington  we   shall    have  something  to  say  fur- 
ther on.     But  to  retrace  our  steps  for  an   instant : 

From  Wal- 

lulu  Junction,    i 

the    Northern    ? 

Pacific  runs  its    : 

trains  onward   h 


Green  River  Scenery, 
over  tlie   Oregon   Railway   and    Navigation    Com- 
pany's line,  to  the  south  bank  of  the  Columbia,  at 
Dallas   Cily,  and    thence   on    through    magnificent 


It 

1         !       . 


;^: 


J      i 

)  \ 

t 


p. 


I 

'v 


m 


m 


S*  TU% 


p. 


'  1 


! 


482 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


scenery  to  Portland.  From  that  point,  as  we  have 
in  a  previous  chapter  described,  it  proceeds  still 
further  down  the  lordly  river,  to  Kalama.  There, 
turning  northward,  it  traverses  Cowlitz,  Lewis, 
Thurston,  and  a  corner  of  Pierce  Counties — all  dis- 
tinguished in  some  respect — to  Tacoma.  This  north- 
ern section  is  known  as  the  "  Kalama  Branch  "  of 
the  great  road. 

Lewis  County,  with  an  area  of  twenty-one  hun- 
dred square  miles,  contains  the  largest  amount  of 
arable  land  west  of  the  Cascade  Range.  Among  its 
population  are  many  wealthy  and  intelligent  fami- 
lies. A  few  miles  from  Chehalis,  the  county  seat, 
is  settled  quite  a  colony  of  notable  English  people, 
with  two  or  more  parties  of  rank  from  Eastern 
Europe.  They  form  an  educated  and  enterprising 
community,  possessing  both  the  means  and  the  pur- 
pose, to  open  up  the  country.  In  another  locality 
are  several  persons  from  Michigan,  who  are  driving 
aifairs  with  hands,  brains,  and  money. 

Of  Thurston  County  mention  has  already  been 
made,  and  it  needs  only  to  be  added  here,  that  in 
the  quality  of  its  fruits,  cereals,  butter,  and  vege- 
tables, not  less  than  in  the  character  of  its  men  and 
women,  it  is  surpassed  by  no  other  part  of  the 
Territory.  In  churches,  schools,  and  connection 
with  the  outside  world,  by  stage,  steamer,  railway, 
and  telegraph,  it  ranks  with  the  best  counties  of  the 
Sound.     "  It  manufactures,  annually,  millions  of  feet 


J 


ITS  RESOURCES. 


48a 


been 
it  in 
/•ege- 
and 
'  the 
ctiou 
way, 
f  the 
feet 


of  lumber,  and  sends  immense  rafts  of  logs  to  mills 
elsewhere  on  the  Inland  Sea."  But  the  man  who 
proposes,  with  little  money  and  but  his  own  hands, 
to  clear  off  a  farm  among  its  heavily  timbered  lands, 
has  a  sturdy  task  before  him,  and  has  need  of  fath- 
omless energy  and  perseverance.  And  this  would 
be  true  in  any  part  of  the  vast  timber-belt.  Not- 
withstanding, numerous  farm'  are  improved  every 
year  and  the  soil  made  to  produce  something  besides 
trees  of  extraordinary  size. 

Pierce  County,  one  of  the  smallest  subdivisions 
of  the  Territory — eighteen  hundred  square  miles  in 
extent — comes  to  the  front  in  sources  of  industry. 
Among  trhem  are  its  coal-mines,  of  value  unknown 
as  yet;  its  quarries  of  lime  and  building  stone,  suf- 
ficient for  all  demands  for  a  century  to  come;  its 
acres  of  splendid  timbered  land;  fine  soil  for  hops, 
and  large  grazing  area.  In  this  county,  between 
the  White  and  Puyallup  Rivers,  lies  the  "  Stuck 
Valley,"  renowned  for  the  extraordinary  fertility 
of  its  soil,  a  mixture  of  vegetable  mold  and  alluvial 
deposit.  The  following  list  of  products,  raised  in 
succession,  without  resort  to  fertilizers,  from  one 
acre  of  ground  in  this  valley,  I  find  in  a  "Com- 
pendium of  Information "  about  the  Territory, 
arranged  by  Allen  C.  Mason,  of  Tacoma,  to  whom 
I  am  much  indebted  for  the  work.  "Six  hundred 
bushels  of  potatoes,  thirty-five  hundred  pounds  of 
hops,  ten  tons  of  clover,  thirty-five  tons  of  sngar- 


I     !<ll 


'Hlt'E 


I  If 


I  :.a. 


i] 


1      ">l 


il 


1  il 


B'   i 


HKii 


484 


WASHING  TON  TERlilTOR  Y. 


making  beets,  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  bushels 
of  oate,  ninety  bushels  of  barley,  six  crops  of  veg- 
etables. These  are  actual  yields.  After  twenty 
years  of  successive  crops,  the  land  needs  no  fer- 
tilizing, is  always  mellow,  and  easily  worked." 

The  Stuck  Valley  is  the  bed  of  an  ancient  river. 
In  an  uncultivated  state,  it  is  mantled  with  growths 
of  alder,  rank  grass,  and  vine-maple.  From  the 
abrupt  hills  on  either  side  leap  forth  springs  of  ex- 
cellent water.  A  road  now  constructing  between 
Tacoma  and  the  heart  of  this  valley,  will  reduce 
the  distance  thither  to  nine  miles. 

So  far  as  known,  the  coal-measures  of  Washing- 
ton lie  between  the  Sound  and  the  Cascade  Range. 
"  They  extend  from  near  the  lower  line  of  Thurston 
County,  northward  to  Bellingham  Bay,  possibly  to 
the  British  Possessions."  Next  to  the  luml)er  in- 
dustry, they  promise  to  furnish,  for  some  time  to 
come,  if  amply  worked,  the  leading  pursuit  of  this 
tier  of  counties.  The  collieries  of  Pierce  and  King 
counties  show  the  largest  output  at  present.  Those 
of  the  latter  district  produce  lignites  chiefly,  which 
serve  well  for  steam  and  domestic  purposes.  The 
Pierce  County  mineral,  a  clean  bituminous  in  some 
localities,  but  in  others  mingled  with  lignite,  ram- 
ifies a  hilly  country  in  opulent  veins. 

Muoh  of  the  coal  now  consumed  on  the  Pacific 
Coast  comes  from  Australia,  and  is  very  expensive. 
Particularly    is    this    true   in    Southern    California, 


I 


ITS  RESOURCES. 


485 


'hose 

hich 

The 

some 

ram- 

acific 
isive. 
)rnia, 


where  there  prevails  a  scarcity  of  timber.  The  fuel 
is  brought  over  by  English  merchantmen,  which 
reload  with  wheat  from  the  San  Gabriel  and  other 
southern  valleys.  Divers  efforts  have  been  made  in 
that  part  of  the  State  to  utilize  coal-oil  for  heating; 
and  to  accomplish  it,  the  geniuses  of  the  West  and 
elsewhere  have  invented  no  end  of  contrivances — 
stoves,  ranges,  burners,  furnaces — all  "  warranted  to 
be  safe  and  clean  consumers."  The  governor  of 
Washington  estimates,  that  when  the  lower  measures 
of  the  Territory  shall  have  been  reached,  they  will 
easily  supply  eighty  per  cent  of  this  dearth  in  fuel. 
Let  us  now,  for  a  moment,  give  attention  to 
Yakima  County,  a  regal  subdivision  of  the  mam- 
moth Territory.  Its  dimensions  are  one  hundred 
and  ten  miles  by  seventy.  The  Yakima  River,  u 
royal  tributary  of  the  Columbia,  pours  through  it 
from  north-west  to  south-east.  The  valley  it  drains 
has  an  average  radius  of  seventy-f  ve  miles,  and 
extends  from  the  Columbia  to  the  Cascade  Mount- 
ains. Topographically  speaking,  it  is  one  grand 
succession  of  foot-hills,  low  ranges,  plateaus,  and 
valleys,  unrivaled  for  fertility  of  soil.  Clothed  with 
sage-brush  or  nourishing  bunch-grass,  its  table-lands 
have  provided  the  choicest  pasturage  to  herds  for 
half  a  century  past.  In  the  heart  of  its  hills  and 
mountains  are  housed  fortunes  in  minerals — gold, 
silver,  iron,  copper;  while  on  their  surface  stand 
pine,  fir,  cedar,  tamarack,  all    princely  in   size  and 


-'HI 
i   1  )] 


■  V 


w 


i  \ 


i 

III 

I* 


<'t 


4' 
1. 


I     < 


i'.  •: 


« 


r,<  I 


f  1 


If  It 


■n 


IP 


■f? 


48G 


WASnL\G  TON  TER Rl  TOR  Y. 


height.     The  temperate  zone  yields  few  vegetables 
or  fruits,  excej)t  peaches,  that  do  not  thrive  in  the 


iiiiiniticeiit  Yakima  Valley.     Wheat  is  an  unfailing 
product.     There  are  fields  which  have  l)een  known 


ITU  RESOURCES. 


487 


a) 
C 

O 
U3 


5 

(3 
o 

(U 

•o 

a> 
c) 
(0 
01 

O 


V, 


liling 
uown 


to  produce  thirty  consecutive  harvests  of  this  cereal, 
unaided  by  fertilizers,  the  last  crop  averaging  fifty 
bushels  to  the  acre.  Up  this  valley,  from  Ainsvvorth 
to  the  Cascade  Mountains,  runs  the  new  main  division 
of  the  Northern  Pacific  Road,  a  costly  highway 
traversing  a  sumptuous  land. 

The  county  includes  the  celebrated  Yakima 
Indian  Reservation,  which  embraces  six  hundred 
sections  of  the  best  land  west  of  the  Columbia 
River.  Of  this,  three  hundred  thousand  acres  are 
beautiful  moadow-land,  sparkling  with  refreshing 
springs  and  water-courses.  The  occupants  of  this 
Reservation  are  distinguished  for  their  advancement 
in  education,  religion,  and  the  customs  of  civilized 
life.  Of  these  Indians  a  shrewd  trader  once  replied, 
on  being  asked  if  they  would  steal:  "No,  sir.  If 
all  the  white  men  of  this  vicinity  were  placed  on 
one  side  this  stream,  and  all  the  Indians  on  the 
other,  I  would  leave  ray  goods  on  the  Indians'  side." 

Fourteen  tribes  were  parties  to  the  "  Treaty  of 
Yakima,"  ratified  in  1859.  Some  of  these  people 
reside  sixty  miles  from  the  head-quarters  of  the 
Reservation.  The  population  now  numbers  nearly 
four  thousand  persons.  In  1880,  those  engaged  in 
agriculture  raised  thirty-five  thousand  bushels  of 
wheat,  besides  a  very  large  amount  of  oats  and  corn. 
They  were  then  the  owners  of  seventeen  thousand 
horses,  and  fifteen  thousand  head  of  cattle.  In  their 
timber  tracts  they  cut  nearly  four  hundred  thousand 


v*i. 


i    i 

i 


i 


'l     1    i' 


-r 


'«! 


I  < 

f,  * 


''I 


f;f.    1, 


W 


% 


\\u 


f; 
i' 


^i] 


+1 


)    1 


488 


WASHINGTON  TERRITORY. 


feet  of  lumber.  For  the  processes  of  husbandry  they 
have  plows,  mowers,  reapers,  and  wagons,  and  have 
under  cultivation  eight  thousand  acres  of  land. 
Numbers  of  them  occupy  comfortable  houses,  fitted 
up  with  stoves,  tables,  clocks,  beds,  mirrors,  news- 
papers, the  Bible,  and  much  else  that  is  useful. 
"  They  were  once,"  to  quote  the  language  of  the 
Rev.  J.  H.  Wilbur,  for  twenty  years  their  superin- 
tendent, friend,  and  adviser,  "  as  low  as  Indians  gen- 
erally become  without  going  to  the  bottomless  pit." 

Fortunately,  Mr.  Wilbur  believed  vigorously  in 
the  Bible  and  the  plow.  In  his  training  of  the 
Yak i  mas,  they  stood  for  faith  and  works.  He  em- 
ployed both  with  a  will.  In  the  steady  advance  of 
his  proteges  in  civilization  he  to-day  sees  the  result. 

Washington  em  braces  fifteen  Indian  reservations, 
aggregating  over  six  million  acres.  Largely,  they 
comprise  the  finest  grazing,  timber,  mineral,  and 
arable  portions  of  the  Territory.  Between  thirty 
and  forty  thousand  acres  have  been  allotted  to  dif- 
ferent Indians,  in  severalty.  The  total  Indian  popu- 
lation of  Washington  is  ten  thousand  two  hundred 
persons. 

Turning  our  eye  now  to  the  remote  north-west- 
ern corner  of  the  Territory,  we  find  Whatcom 
County,  close  under  the  forty-ninth  parallel.  Bel- 
lingham  Bay — one  of  Vancouver's  names — laves 
it  on  the  west.  On  the  east,  eighty  miles  from  this 
bay,  bristle    the    Cascades.     A    balmy    atmosphere 


ITS  RESOURCES. 


489 


from  off  the  Kiiro  Sivo  floats  oyer  it  continually, 
softening  the  climate  quite  through  the  Winter. 
On  its  surface  gleam  several  picturesque  lakes,  some 
day  to  be  rendered  still  more  attractive  by  Summer 
residences  of  the  people.  One  of  these  bodies  of 
water  is  Lake  Whatcom,  twelve  miles  long  by  one 
and  a  half  miles  wide,  bordered  with  elegant  tim- 
ber, in  places  four  hundred  feet  deep,  three  hun- 
dred feet  above  sea-level,  three  miles  from  Belling- 
hani  Bay. 

Whatcom  County  is  less  visited  by  cold  fogs 
than  are  some  portions  of  the  Sound  country. 
Large  bodies  of  redeemable  land  adjoin  the  mouths 
of  bays  and  rivers.  Its  forests  are  studded  with 
stately  firs  and  cedars,  acres  of  which  have  never 
heard  the  sound  of  the  woodman's  ax.  "  Every 
thing  man  wants  in  the  line  of  grains,  fruits,  and 
vegetables  will  thrive  there."  Fish  of  every  scaie 
and  fin  and  flesh,  nearly,  visit  its  waters.  Some 
one — smart  in  figures — has  estimated  that  a  popula- 
tion of  one  hundred  thousand  may  easily  find  sub- 
sistence in  Whatcom  County  alone.  Can  any  reader 
then  ask:  "Whatcom(es)  of  a  land  like  that?" 

Let  us  not  spurn  Snohomish  County  on  account 
of  its  name.  One-half  as  large  as  the  State  of 
Connecticut,  with  a  climate  of  whose  mildness  in 
Winter  New  England  has  no  experience,  and  a  soil 
as  rich,  certainly,  in  its  cultivable  parts  as  ai*e  the 
prairies  of  Illinois,  it  deserves  well  of  us.     Lying 


ili^l 


='.'il 


'^-  ■■«!l 


?" 


/I. 


m 


V 


i  ■  i  . 


I  I 


490 


WASHING  TON  TE  li  R I  TOR  Y. 


on  the  east  side  of  the  Sound,  it  extends  back  sixty 
or  seventy  miles  to  tlie  Cascade  Range.  It  can  ex- 
hibit a  surface  of  one  and  a  half  million  acres,  one- 
third  mountainous,  heavily  timbered,  and  fertile  in 
parts;  one-third  bottom-land,  extremely  productive; 
the  remainder  timbered  partially,  but  not  worth  the 
clearing  simply  for  purposes  of  agriculture,  but  for 
pasturing,  excellent. 

"  Logging  "  has  been  the  chief  occupation  of 
the  people  for  twenty-five  years.  For  a  long  period 
the  annual  output  has  exceeded  seventy-five  million 
feet.  Again,  some  one  who  knows  how  to  calcu- 
late— as  the  writer  does  not — says:  "On  its  surface 
to-day  stand  from  five  to  ten  billion  feet  of  mer- 
chantable logs,  board  measure."  Two  streams,  at- 
tractively named  Snohomish  and  Stillaguamish, 
abundantly  water  the  section.  Along  their  valleys 
and  those  of  theii  tributaries  settlements  are  stead- 
ily forming. 

Between  these  let  us  put  Skagit  County,  oppo- 
site the  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  admirably  situated 
for  commerce,  abounding  in  iron  ore,  coal,  and 
limestone,  rich  in  farming  resources,  drained  by 
the  Skagit  River — itself  navigable  eighty  miles, 
and  already  occupied  by  a  population  five  thousand 
strong. 

"  On  the  first  day  of  July,  1884,"  remarks  Gov- 
ernor Squire,  "  Washington  Territory  was  entirely 
out  of  debt,  and  had    in    her   treasury    forty-seven 


ITS  liESOUliCES. 


491 


sixty 
n  ex- 
one- 
ile  in 
ctive; 
th  the 
Lit  for 

on  of 
period 
nillion 

calcu- 
Burface 
•f  mer- 
ms,  at- 
lamish, 

valleys 
i  stead- 

,  oppo- 
^ituated 
al,  and 
ned  by 
miles, 
lousand 

ks  Gov- 
entirely 
ty-seven 


thousand  dollars.  Her  citizens  number  one  hundred 
and  seventy  thou  and."  His  cxcollenoy  might  havo 
added:  "And  in  the  minds  of  her  people  there  ex- 
iHts  no  insuperable  objection  to  being  admitted  into 
the  Union." 


*4< 


I    i 


XI<TX. 

BF^ITISH   (©OLiUMBIA. 
in  the  lixxle  island  cixy. 


'h 


,  '■'■ 


.  n. 


14-. 


^V 


\i"\ 


rsii-si 


"  TTERE  we  are,  the  land  of  the  Britishers  just 
i  1  ahead  !"  exclaimed  an  animated  passenger, 
as  our  steamer  swept  up  to  the  green  coast  of  Van- 
couver Island  yesterday  morning.  December  being 
quite  outside  the  excursion  season,  there  was  barely 
a  score  of  passengers,  all  told.  Therefore  the  cere- 
monies with  the  revenue  officers  were  soon  ended.  It 
was  a  dismal  day.  A  somber-gray  sky  arched  the 
Sound,  except  in  the  south,  where  sailed  the  suji, 
framed  in  by  sullen  clouds.  Far  out  to  sea,  as  we 
crosicd  the  Strait  of  Fuca,  loomed  up  a  high  bank 
of  wrathful  blue.  From*  the  north-west  a  dense 
column  of  white  sleet  drove  in,  close  to  the  island 
shore.  Eastward  lay  my  native  land,  its  mountains 
sheeted  with  snow.  Truly,  Nature  had  arranged 
for  me  a  most  inhospitable  introduction  into  British 
Columbia. 

The  trip  up*  Admiralty  Inlet  had  been  made  in 
the  night.  Leaving  Tacoma  about  nine  in  the 
evening,  we  called  at  Seattle  and  other  points  on 
the  way,  and  soon   after   day-break  breakfasted  at 

Port    Townsend,  the    American   port   of  entry,  a 

492 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY. 


493 


ade  in 
in  the 
ints  on 
isted  at 
ntry,  a 


pleasant  little  village  spread  on  a  hillside  overlook- 
ing the  Sound,  and  dependent  chiefly,  I  should  say, 
without  knowing  positively,  upon  fishing,  lumbering, 
and  the  customs,  for  support. 

Thence  a  run  of  forty  miles  northward  brought 
us  to  Vancouver,  and  then  a  short  sail  up  James's 
Bay,  to  Victoria,  with  its  heterogeneous  population, 
and  its  background  of  distant,  snow-capped  hills. 
Proceeding  directly  to  one  of  the  leading  hotels, 
whose  motherly-hearted  landlady  had  been  especially 
recommended  to  me  by  friends  in  the  East,  I 
there,  happily,  found  the  United  States  consul  at 
Victoria,  Major  Robert  J.  Stevens,  and  his  wife, 
with  whom  I  passed  the  evening  most  agreeably. 

Next  morning,  by  kind  invitation  of  Major 
Stevens,  I  paid  a  visit  to  the  United  States  con- 
sulate, being  in  quest  of  maps  of  Vancouver  Island, 
British  Columbia,  and  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway. 
As  I  entered  the  principal  room — reception-room,  I 
shall  call  it — the  place  impressed  me  as  being  some- 
what of  a  curiosity-shop.  The  uncarpeted  floor, 
spread  with  handsome  skins  of  animals,  represent- 
ing the  main  industry  of  British  North  America; 
the  inviting  lounge  against  the  right  wall,  on  which 
lay  a  square  pillow  of  Japanese  leather-work,  em- 
bossed in  gold,  silver,  scarlet,  and  other  bright 
colors — a  souvenir,  I  imagined,  from  a  brother  con- 
sul in  the  Sunrise  Kingdom ;  the  plain  desk  and 
case  of  drawirs  for  papers  and  documents;  and, 

42 


m 


t  .  If 
--if  m^ 

ill  Ml 


iii'i 


w] 


494 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


n  ^ 


,i. 


I 


■'  fell 


Ki|iill 


above  all,  the  pictures  on  the  -walls,  made  the  spot 
one  to  be  studied  for  a  while,  particularly  if  one 
took  interest  in  the  faces  which  hung  around  him. 
The  situation  revealed  two  things,  the  taste  of  the 
consul,  and  the  rigid  economy  of  the  government  in 
the  equipping  its  consulates.  Upon  my  expressing 
surprise  at  the  premises  being  restricted  to  two 
small  rooms,  I  was  informed  that  "  no  United  States 
consulate  in  the  world  occupies  an  entire  building." 

It  was  a  crisp,  frosty  morning.  The  newly  built 
fire  in  the  grate  threw  out  a  shower  of  fiue  coals 
all  around  upon  the  hearth.  The  young  flames 
leaped  and  hopped  about,  as  I  have  seen  boys  around 
a  bunch  of  exploding  fire-crackers  on  the  Fourth  of 
July.  A  poet  would  undoubtedly  describe  the  low, 
rapid  music  they  made,  as  a  "  fiery  lay,"  and  would 
associate  with  it  some  stirring  sentiment  concerning 
the  "  noble  Red  Man,"  but  to  my  untutored  ears  it 
sounded  very  much  like  "  Britannia  Rules  the 
Wave."  Probably,  though,  since  Major  Stevens 
was  in  the  act  of  entering  the  apartment,  it  was 
intended  for  "  Hail  to  the  Chief"  One  glance 
across  the  Canal  de  Haro,  at  the  snow-mountains  on 
our  own  main-land,  was  quite  sufficient  to  make 
welcQme  both  fire  and  furs. 

But  the  peculiar  riches  of  the  spot  were  massed 
in  the  adornments  of  the  walls.  Mostly,  these  were 
portraits  and  photographs  of  Major  Stevens's  per- 
sonal friends.     Grouped  in  the  silent  company  were 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY. 


495 


men  distinguished  in  divers  walks  of  life.  Some 
are  living;  others  are  dead.  Prominent  among 
the  former  was  the  face  of  Lord  Lansdowne,  the 
present  governor-general  of  Canada,  a  man  of 
varied  knowledge,  and  of  fine  ability  in  an  oratorical 
way.  The  gentleman  had  recently  paid  a  visit  to 
the  Pacifij  Coast,  and,  while  in  Victoria,  had  been 
a  guest  at  a  commemorative  entertainment  given  by 
some  notable  society  of  the  city.  Replying  to  a 
toast,  one  who  heard  him,  said  :  "  The  marquis  spoke 
eloquently  and  forcibly  for  an  hour  and  a  half, 
without  preparation,  upon  a  subject  of  great  interest 
to  the  Canadian  public  at  the  time." 

Among  those  who  have  passed  away,  I  recall 
the  features  of  Professor  Agassiz,  of  Professor  Car- 
lisle P.  Patterson,  who  won  a  name  in  connection 
with  the  Coast  Survey  Department,  at  Washington, 
and  of  Colonel  E.  D.  Baker,  who  fell  at  the  battle 
of  Ball's  BlufiF,  early  in  the  war,  and  whose  death 
the  country  mourned  from  shore  to  shore.  The 
pict^ire  of  the  latter  is  an  oil  painting,  and  well 
preserves  the  features  of  a  man  greatly  admired  on 
the  Pacific  Coast. 

Colonel  Baker  was  the  father  of  four  children, 
two  sons  and  two  daughters.  The  elder  son,  Alfred 
W.  Baker,  now  resident  of  San  Francisco,  and  both 
daughters,  one  of  whom  is  Mrs.  Stevens,  are  living. 
The  younger  son,  for  some  time  a  quartermaster  in 
the  regular  army,  died  at  Fort  Vancouver  nearly  five 


ri^' 


hi] 


-i' 


if' I 


! 


!i;: 


I 


Hi  ■ 


if 


If  I 


ml  -t 


\\t 


;i   ! 


496 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


years  ago.  The  remaining  daughter,  a  widow,  I 
think,  resides  at  Seattle.  Mrs.  Stevens  is  a  lady  of 
noble  character  and  of  great  intelligence,  who  cher- 
ishes devoutly  the  memory  of  her  fatiier,  as  indeed 
do  many  of  the  old  Californians  who  survive  him. 

Some  readers  will  remember  that  shortly  before 
the  war,  in  1859  probably.  Colonel  Baker  left  the 
Gold  State,  of  which  he  had  for  some  years  been  a 
resident,  and  settled  in  Oregon.  In  1860  he  was, 
by  the  Legislature  of  that  State,  chosen  its  United 
States  Senator.  Barely  had  he  taken  his  seat  in 
Congress  when  began  the  direful  attempt  to  rupture 
the  Union.  Forthwith  his  patriotism  was  pro- 
foundly stirred.  Offering  his  services  to  the  country, 
they  were  accepted,  and  early  in  the  terrible  strug- 
gle her  soil  received  his  blood. 

Majot  and  Mrs.  Stevens  were  married  in  Cali- 
fornia, and,  proceeding  to  Washington  not  long 
thereafter,  were  residents  of  the  capital  for  twenty 
years.  Mr.  Stevens  claims  Rhode  Island  as  his  na- 
tive State.  From  his  youth  the  Government  ap- 
pears to  have  kept  him  busy,  for  at  twenty  he  was 
a  consul  in  Spain.  He  reports  having  shouldered 
a  musket  in  defense  of  law  and  order  in  the  United 
States  on  six  different  occasions.  One  of  these  was 
during  that  brief  and  not  very  alarming  revolt  of 
the  people  of  Rhode  Island,  with  "Governor  Dorr" 
at  their  head,  in  May,  1842.  Being  a  Newport 
man,  and  an  ardent  believer  in  legally  constituted 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY. 


497 


authority,  Mr.  Stevens  marcliod  out,  of  course,  under 
the  banner  of  Samuel  W.  King,  the  lawful  executive 
of  the  State,  who,  upon  the  organization  of  the  State 
government  at  Newport,  on  May  3d,  immediately 
proclaimed  the  spirited  little  commonwealth  under 
martial  law,  and  at  once  led  the  State  militia  against 
Mr.  Dorr  and  his  party,  who,  on  that  very  3d  of 
May,  were  attempting  to  seize  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment at  Providence.  Sustained  by  the  Government 
at  Washington,  Governor  King  soon  succeeded  in 
quelling  the  insurrection,  and  on  the  18th  of  May 
order  was  permanently  restored. 

In  that  brief  uprising,  fruitful  years  afterward, 
if  not  immediately,  Mr.  Dorr,  who  was  a  lawyer  of 
education  and  talent,  stood  forth  as  the  exponent  of 
the  principle  that  all  the  citizens  of  a  State  have  a 
right  to  representation  in  the  State  Legislature. 
Governor  King,  on  the  other  hand,  represented  the 
privileges  of  a  caste  of  the  wealthy  and  influential 
few,  who  only,  in  that  day,  had  a  voice  in  the  elec- 
tion of  the  legislators.  Those  familiar  with  the 
history  of  the  trouble,  know  that  when  it  blew  over 
Mr.  Dorr  was  indicted  for  high  'treason,  and  a  re- 
ward was  offered  for  his  apprehension.  He  fled, 
first  to  Connecticut  then  to  New  Hampshire,  but 
finally  returning  to  Rhode  Island,  he  was  arrested, 
tried,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for 
life.  But  in  1847  he  received  pardon,  and  was  re- 
leased.   Six  years  later  his  political  disabilities  were 


■(.(5 


J  'J. 


•5     ii«*J 


'.    ^i! 


498 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


removed,  and  the  man  lived  to  see  the  people  of  his 
State  enjoying-  the  very  immunity,  to  obtain  which 
both  he  and  they  had  once  appealed  to  arms. 

Other  opportunities  for  not  very  dangerous  sol- 
diering were  offered  Mr.  Stevens  during  his  life  in 
California,  most  likely  during  the  reign  of  the  re- 
nowned vigilance  committees,  when,  in  consequence 
of  an  aggravating  series  of  crimes  committed  by  the 
horde  of  desperadoes  who  invaded  the  coast  soon 
after  the  gold  discovery,  certain  citizens  constituted 
themselves  temporary  executors  of  the  laws,  in  the 
belief  that  safety  to  life  and  property  was  otherwise 
impossible;  but  not  improbably  during  the  Rebell- 
ion, when  for  a  time  California's  apostasy  to  the 
Confederacy  seemed  an  event  almost  certain  to  oc- 
cur. The  "Army  Register"  states  that  "on  March 
18,  1864,  Robert  J.  Stevens  was  appointed  from  the 
District  of  Columbia  a  paymaster  in  the  army,  with 
the  rank  of  major.  This  position  he  resigned  May 
29,  1865." 

The  duties  of  the  consulate  in  Victoria  were 
assumed  early  in  1884.  Mr.  Stevens  has  repre- 
sented the  Government  in  the  same  capacity,  also, 
at  some  point  in  South  America.  He  was  for  some 
years  superintendent  of  the  United  States  Mint  in 
San  Francisco.  The  major  is  still  hale  and  vigor- 
ous, and  has  a  mind  stored  with  a  fund  of  informa- 
tion picked  up  on  three  or  four  continents.  He 
retains  all  his  old  devotion  to  "  law  and  order,"  and 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY. 


499 


of  bis 
which 

IS  sol- 
life  in 
;he  re- 
quence 
bv  the 
st  soon 
stituted 
,  in  the 
herwise 
Rebell- 
to   t\ie 
n  to  oc- 
n  ^larch 
from  the 
my,  with 
ned  May 

[via   were 
IS  repve- 
•ity,  also, 
for  some 
Mint  in 
md  vigor- 
informa- 
juts.     He 
rder,"  and 


hesitates  not  to  express  his  disapproval  of  the  late 
anti-Chinese  movement  in  Tacoma.  In  other  words, 
"An  imperium  in  imperio  "  does  not  strike  liira  as  being 
compatible  with  a  republican  form  of  government. 


And  you  have  never  been  inside  the  "Hudson 
Bay  Company's  store"  in  Victoria?  Well,  it  is 
now  half-past  nine.  The  sun  has  climbed  above 
the  Cascades,  and  is  flooding  the  city  with  golden 
light,  and  we  shall  find  a  walk  from  the  consulate 
down  to  Wharf  Street,  on  which  are  the  great  store, 
the  customs'  buildings,  and  several  large  shipping- 
houses,  a  very  pleasant  one.  There  is  nothing  pre- 
tentious, you  perceive,  in  the  aspect  of  this  mercantile 
house  of  the  famous  fur  company,  it  being  a  low, 
spacious  structure,  built  of  brick,  with  a  look  of 
stability  about  it  that  comports  well  with  the  char- 
acter of  the  organization  to  which  it  belongs.  It 
is  a  building,  however,  in  which  is  retailed  almost 
every  article  for  which  mortals  have  need  in  the  way 
of  clothing  and  materials.  The  shelves,  floor,  and 
counter  present  very  much  the  appearance  of  one 
of  the  so-called  co-operative  stores  that  were  so 
much  "the  mode"  in  small  country  towns  in  the 
East  a  very  long  time  ago,  when  I  was  young. 

These  stores  were  intended  to  meet  every  pos- 
sible want  of  the  rural  population,  in  the  house,  on 
the  farm.  Farmer  brains  conceived  them.  They 
were  stocked  by  farmer  purses.     They  exemplified 


i  u 


"I'lfl'iMiffPff 


500 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


farmer  economy.  In  short,  through  the  co-operative 
store  the  tillers  of  the  soil  became  grocers,  hard- 
ware dealers,  dry  goods  merchants,  and  druggists 
even,  and  book-sellers,  in  a  narrow  way,  and  thereby 
became  selfish  to  an  enormous  degree,  forgetting 
that  tradesmen  of  every  honest  class  have  a  right 
to  live.  Fortunately,  the  plan  proved  not  a  particle 
more  satisfactory  than  does  co-operative  housekeep- 
ing, and  in  a  very  few  years  that  unique  kind  of 
merchandising  became  a  failure  of  the  past. 

The  force  of  salesmen  at  the  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany's establishment  is  small,  else  all  have  not  yet 
come  in  from  breakfast.  Notice,  that  the  lady  clad 
in  an  elegant  seal-skin  cloak,  inquires  for  nothing 
which  the  house  can  not  furnish.  Her  purchases 
are  chiefly  small  articles  of  men's  apparel,  but  every 
thing  seems  to  be  of  the  quality  she  wants.  The  man 
serving  her  reminds  one  of  the  pictures  of  Father 
Time  in  the  primer.  He  must  have  been  "  thrown 
in  "  with  the  charter  granted  to  the  powerful  Com- 
pany, at  its  incorporation  in  1670. 

One  end  of  the  building  is  devoted  to  the 
cheerful  offices  of  Mr.  Smyth,  the  chief  factor  of 
the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  and  his  assistants.  Mr. 
Smyth  has  but  recently  arrived  from  the  Mother 
Country,  and  is,  perhaps,  hardly  at  home  in  his  new 
position  as  yet.  The  gentleman  has  this  moment 
entered  his  apartment — a  tiny  room,  with  one  win- 
dow overlooking  James  Bay.     It  is  neatly  furnished 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY. 


501 


ative 
[lard- 
Tgists 
ereby 
Btting 
right 
irticle 
jkeep- 
nd  of 

Com- 

lot  yet 

ly  clad 

lothing 

ircbases 
every 
le  man 
Father 
thrown 

il  Com- 

to   the 
ictor  of 
s.     Mr. 
Mother 
his  new 
moment 
iiie  win- 
fnrnished 


with  a  carpet,  a  chair  or  two,  writing-tahle,  and 
a  case  for  books  and  papers.  A  genial  fire  glows 
in  the  small  grate.  Should  the  courteous  manager 
of  the  store  introduce  us,  we  should  find  him 
extremely  urbane,  and  very  pleased  to  see  us;  but 
should    we   thoughtlessly    request    of  him    certain 


Arctic  Kxploration. 

items  of  information  pertaining  to  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company,  he  would  certainly  refer  us  to  the  book- 
stores, or  to  those  depositories  of  general  knowle,1^'e, 
the  governor  or  the  bishop ! 

For  over  two  hundred  years  the  apparent  sole 
pursuit  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  has  been 
trading  in  furs.     But  in  fact,  its  lines  of  business, 

in  addition  to  this,  have  been  as  multifarious   and 

43 


M 
I  % 


■m 


■ui 


■if: 

I, 

h 

mI 

,i;' 

f 

502 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


as  useful  as  are  the  varieties  of  goods  displayed  in 
tills  Wliarf-Street  store.  Among  its  labors,  directly 
and  indirectly,  may  be  mentioned  farming,  fruit- 
growing, stock-raising,  school-teaching,  preaching 
the  gospel,  writing  history,  bartering  in  all  manner 
of  commodities,  endeavoring  to  civilize  and  Chris- 
tianize savage  nun,  and  aiding  generously  in  the 
comparatively  fruitless  work  of  Arctic  exploration. 
In  the  last  line  of  effort  it  has  not  only  contributed 
large  sums  of  money  to  other  expeditions,  but  has, 
at  its  own  expense,  fitted  out  several  vessels  for  the 
unpromising  work. 

Taking  the  company's  original  vast  possession. 
Prince  Rupert's  Land,  with  its  later  acquisition — 
the  boundless  "North-west  Territories" — it  has 
had  a  field  for  the  exercise  of  its  wonderfully 
versatile  talents,  as  wide  as  have  its  opportunities 
therefor  been  endless. 


Mm 


^' 


Ik  the  LiiipiPLB  Island  ^hpy. 


V 


THAT  ancient  thinker,  Epictetus,  once  gave  it  as 
his  opinion  that  the  best  way  to  elevate  a  city 
is  not  to  raise  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  but  to  ele- 
vate the  souls  of  the  inhabitants.  Now,  had  he 
only  said,  "  Where  the  roofs  of  the  houses  are 
found  to  be  low,  the  souls  of  the  inhabitants  are 
sure  to  be  elevated,"  we  should  be  able  to  determine 
exactly  the  moral  status  of  the  people  of  Victoria, 
since  at  least  five-tenths  of  their  dwellings  are  but 
one  story  in  height.  But  whatever  may  be  the 
condition  of  their  souls,  their  bodies  have  a  surpris- 
ing altitude.  Never  since  the  flood  have  there  been 
so  many  tall  people  in  one  small  city.  Two  stories 
in  height  are  scores  of  them.  The  aged  men,  es- 
pecially, look  to  me  as  if  they  had  grown  upward 
all  their  lives.  ^ 

And  what  fine  color  every  body  has !  Men, 
women,  and  children  are  abloom  with  health.  Ripe 
cherries  scarcely  rival  the  hue  of  their  cheeks.  If 
health  and  strength  and  length  of  days  are  wealth — 
and  who  disputes  it? — then  is  Victoria  a  Croesus  in 
this  respect  among  the  coast  cities.     In  the  United 

States  consulate   an   hour   ago   I    was   shown    the 

503 


'':h- 


■■ml 

m 


;  ill 


m 


llgfM^, 


ir!l 


■Vf   i': 


:iii' 


504 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


photograph  of  a  citizen,  recently  deceased,  whose  ca- 
reer closed  at  the  ripe  age  of  one  hundred  and  four- 
teen. Is  it  the  tonic  air,  a  clear  conscience,  a  sound 
ancestry,  or  all  these  combined,  which  so  preserves 
this  people? 

From  the  early  years  of  the  century  down  to 
about  1843  all  supplies  for  the  Hudpon  Bay  Com- 
pany's posts,  then  dotting  this  vast  North-west,  were 
conveyed  in  boats  up  the  Columbia  River  to  Fort 
Vancouver,  the  general  depot  for  distribution. 
Thence,  by  means  of  pack-horses  principally,  they 
were  borne  into  the  heart  of  the  country.  But  at 
the  above  date,  owing  to  the  agitation  arising  from 
the  settlement  of  the  famous  "Oregon  Treaty" 
question,  an  auxiliary  supply  point  was  established, 
on  this  island,  near  the  head  of  the  inlet  now  called 
James's  Bay.  Around  this  depot  was  erected  a  de- 
fense, which  was  named  "  Fort  Victoria."  That 
was  tiie  beginning  of  this  staid,  punctilious,  pros- 
perous,, tin'i,  when  you  get  at  it,  warm-hearted  city. 

Victoria  is  lighted  by  electricity.  Chiefly,  the 
streets  are  straight,  level,  and  intersect  each  other 
at  right  angles.  The  cross- ways  are  ridges  of  fine 
gravel,  instead  of  rows  of  flagging,  and  are  muddy 
when  it  rains.  In  the  suburbs  are  numerous  tasteful 
residences,  built  in  the  modern,  composite  style, 
with  either  tidy  lawns,  croquet-grounds,  tennis- 
courts,  'or  flower-gardens  in  the  rear.  Along  the 
coast,  Victoria  is  known  for  its  pleasant  suburban 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY. 


505 


drives,  its  command  of  stately  scenery  on  the  Ameri- 
can shore,  and  as  a  center  of  influence  for  the  Hud- 
son Bay  Comj)ony. 

For  table  supplies  the  city  depends,  to  a  great 
extent,  upon  the  farmers  of  Washington  Territory, 
agricultural  activity  in  British  Columbia  being  a 
condition  of  things  yet  to  exist,  even  in  districts 
where  husbandry  may  be  easily  conducted.  And 
"  farming  on  the  Island  of  Vancouver,"  says  a  citi- 
zen, "is  far  from  the  top  in  the  list  of  occupations." 
The  landlady  at  the  hotel  informs  me  that  from  our 
own  main-land  come,  in  large  part,  the  poultry,  fresh 
fruits,  vegetables,  and  canned  goods  found  in  the 
markets  of  Victoria.  On  many  such  products,  as 
well  as  on  a  long  catalogue  of  manufacturod  arti- 
cles, these  people  pay  tribute  to  the  United  States. 
Also,  in  the  stores  and  shops  are  to  be  seen  wares 
in  endless  variety  almost,  on  which  they  pay  duty 
to  the  Mother  Country.  In  short,  most  of  the  com- 
modities pertaining  to  daily  living,  enter  the  island 
burdened  with  an  impost.  Hence  the  great  expense 
of  housekeeping,  of  which  I  have  heard  so  much 
the  past  few  hours. 

There  are  several  hotels  in  the  city,  at  which 
the  charges  vary,  according  to  the  accommodations 
and  the  style  observed.  The  leading  ones  are  the 
Oriental  and  the  Driar.  The  cuisine  of  the  latter, 
if  no  other  feature,  secures  it  a  reputation  atnong 
Americans;  though,  in  fact,  ther<?  is  little  to  cjioose 


in/'i 


1   '' 


1.1 


f;J^ 


^H 


If 


506 


BRI TISH  COL  UMBIA . 


between  them  in  that  respect.  The  Oriental  is  re- 
puted for  its  home-like  atmosphere  and  attentions. 
I  remember  that  when  ascending  the  Columbia, 
last  July,  travelers  on  the  steamer  from  New  Haven, 
Connecticut,  urged  my  testing  it,  as  they  had  done, 
and  were  pleased — as  I  am.  At  the  better  board- 
ing-houses a  compensation  of  one  and  a  half  and 
two  dollars  per  day  is  expected  of  transient  guests. 
But  for  the  visitor  who  desires  to  live  frugally,  and 
who  may  remain  some  time,  the  more  sensible  course 
is  to  engage  a  pleasant  room  in  some  private  home, 
and  make  such  arrangement  for  meals  elsewhere  as 
will  suit  both  appetite  and  bank  account.  The  plan 
enables  the  golden  eagles  to  hold  out  longer,  and 
releases  one  from  tables  not  to  his  taste. 

On  our  own  main-land  the  notion  prevails  that 
in  Victoria  may  be  purchased  certain  lines  of  goods, 
such  as  gloves,  furs,  jewelry,  fine  laces,  and  excellent 
British  hosiery,  at  lower  prices  than  in  the  United 
States.  This  is  a  mistake,  which  a  single  hour 
passed  in  the  shops  and  stores  will  correct.  An 
English  woman  tells  me,  that  in  London  she  can 
buy  costly  American  furs  at  better  advantage  than 
in  this  city,  the  ,'  estern  head-quarters  of  the  Hud- 
son Bay  Company. 

Another  misapprehension  which  has  efifect  among 
our  people  is,  thai'  American  coin  is  not  received  at 
full  value  in  British  Columbia.  All  our  denomina- 
tions, in  silver  and  in  gold,  circulate  as  freely  as  at 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY 


507 


B 


IS  re- 
ntions. 
iimbia, 
Haven, 
i  done, 

board- 
ilf  and 

guests. 
Uy,  and 
e  course 
e  home, 
/here  as 
?he  plan 
rer,  and 

ails  that 
)f  goods, 
sxcellent 
United 
e   hour 
ect.     An 
she  can 
ge  than 
he  Hud- 

ct  among 
ceived  at 
enoniina- 
ely  as  at 


home.  Even  tlin  trade-dollar  we  so  much  despise 
is  readily  taken.  I  was  informed  this  morning,  by 
a  gentleman  constantly  handling  money,  that  of  the 
mass  of  gold  coin  stored  in  the  vaults  of  banks  in 
Victoria,  by  far  the  greater  amount  is  in  American 
five,  ten,  and  twenty  dollar  gold-pieces.  Upon  in- 
quiring the  prices  of  groceries  and  merchandise  any- 
where in  the  town,  they  are  immediately  given  in 
denominations  of  the  United  States. 

Another  error  prevalent  oa  our  part  of  the  con- 
tinent is,  the  supposition  that  the  circulating  medium 
of  the  British  Provinces,  in  North  America,  is  the 
same  as  that  of  Great  Britain.  The  Canadian  Do- 
minion has  its  own  system  of  money,  and  every- 
where within  its  limits  English  currency  is  a  foreign 
circulation. 

Daily  communication  is  maintained,  by  steamer, 
between  Victoria  and  the  various  towns  of  Wash- 
ington Territory  lying  on  the  Sound.  Chief  among 
them  are  Seattle  and  Tacoraa,  both  doing  their 
utmost  to  rival  the  other.  Omitting  Port  Towns- 
end,  the  remaining  communities  are  outgrowths  of 
the  fishing  industry  or  the  lumber-trade.  Thus  in- 
termingle, constantly,  our  border  people  and  these 
British  cousins. 

The  steamer;;  ply:i>g  are  the  property  of  that 
well-known  orgiuiization  in  Portland,  "The  Ore;Ton 
Railway  and  Navigation  Company."  One  of  them, 
a  spacious  anu  elegantly  appointed  boat,  was  built 


^■|.n 


i( 


,H  'i 


t*  (I 


1     i 


]     it 

;   i 


i     i! 


iV  I, 


i  v.\ 


m 


111  ,1 

Ml 


iu 


508 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


on  the  Atlantic  Coast,  and  ranks  with  the  finest 
steamers  on  our  inland  lakes.  It  is  officered  by  gen- 
tlemen. The  table  is  always  excellent.  With  the 
Sound  Basin  settling  at  the  present  rapid  rate,  more 
than  one  such  floating  i)alace  will  soon  be  in  demand 
upon  its  splendid  water-ways,  since  fev*  j'^-^u.-uies 
can  surpass  that  of  sailing  to  and  fro  aicid  :-",:>j^ery 
at  once  so  beautiful  and  so  sublime. 

Victoria  has  a  poj)nlation  of  about  thirteen 
thon?and,  exclusive  of  Chinese  and  Indiana.  Of 
the  latter  there  are  said  to  be  nearly  five  hundred  in 
the  city,  with  a  large  representation  in  other  parts 
of  the  island.  The  Indian  women  I  have  met  on 
the  street,  have  to  an  extent  adopted  tiicir  white 
sisters'  style  of  dresH,  always  eschewing  tlie  drapery, 
however.  The  faces  of  most  of  them  exliibit  un- 
u.'ual  intelligence,  but  I  hey  wear  a  look  of  stoicisc; 
which  debars  attempts  to  speak  to  them. 

The  method  of  governing  the  Indians  of  B-  «iUh 
Cohunbia,  adopted  by  its  executive,  and,  in  an 
earlier  day,  by  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  has 
always  difl'crcd  niMtciially  from  that  practiced  by 
the.  United  States  in  its  dealing  with  the  native 
races.  From  all  I  can  learn,  it  has  been  a  >«  '  *era 
of  undeviating  firmness,  jjistice,  and  kindu  .'  -  a 
course  at  once  calculated  to  win  the  respect  and  irue 
fealty  of  the  tribes.  Sir  James  Douglas,  the  first 
governor  of  the  Provi'jcie,  am  .i  firm  believer  in 
these    principles,    is    f>,wavs    nuMiiioncd    as     n(!ver 


I 


IN  THE  LITTLE  ISLAND  CITY. 


509 


swerving  from  them  in  his  relations  with  the  Red 
Men,  and  as  being  renjurliably  suecessfiil  in  con- 
trolling the  most  perverse  among  them,  never  fail- 
ing to  secure  their  allegiance.  His  "policy"  com- 
prehended neither  trifling  with  them,  nor  exhibition 
of  weakness  on  his  part,  nor  violation  of  their 
rights.  His  successors  most  wisely  followed  his  ex- 
ample. The  consequence  has  ever  been,  that  the 
Indians  of  British  Columbia  have  possessed  a  whole- 
some esteem  for  the  terras,  law  and  government. 
They  convey  to  him  ideas  of  power  and  authority, 
two  things  for  which  most  Indians  have  some 
respect.  Consequently,  wiien  a  statute  of  the  Prov- 
ince lays  its  hand  upon  a  guilty  native,  he  realizes 
that  he  is  in  the  grasp  of  something  mightier  than 
himself,  and  that  escape  is  an  impossibility.  He 
does  not  care  to  repeatedly  feel  its  weight. 

Instead,  therefore,  of  being  an  expensive  and 
most  unprofitable  element  of  the  population,  causing 
the  coming  up  every  now  and  then  before  the  Do- 
minion Parliament  of  irrational  propositions  to  board 
and  clothe  whole  tribes  for  a  term  of  years,  the 
Indians  of  British  Columbia  have  become  not  only 
largo  producers  in  the  Province,  but  also  "  generous 
consumers  of  articles  which  swell  the  customs  reve- 
nue." This  is  the  effect  of  having  been  steadily 
held  to  certain  lines  of  labor  and  conduct.  In  the 
coal  mines,  saw-mills,  logging-camps,  and  fisheries 
of  the    Province  are   employed   large   numbers  of 


ilipii 


mm 


■f^H 


■J^^:^ 


U  'L 


ilSt'f  " 

i^^ 

B    '  '  ' 

i  :   1  '1! 

1 

1     ■     ■!   Ij; 

1    111 

ij      i''^'^'^ 

1     ll  ll 

1  ':  i 

S^R                    fd       ji        l^^l 

''  r  'i 

a  f  1'  ^911 

1  '^  ' 

ill.     *1 

' '  1  i 
i  i  '^i 

1  ^    '     :| 

'  i  ■  ■''•■' 

1  ^'''         i| 

!' 

1     ^^"      ■       •   k,imm  re, 

i 

i'^'     IhI 

'  ii  i  i  i 

■■^1 

Mfili! 

i'^'i'l 

ii  n :     !  iiii  H 

;     1      ;  1 

'  '  :M^^B  H 

i     ili          :    1 

r'''       'I^hI 

liHi 

1 
1 

'1  '  1  '  1 

I 

-1'  1 1 

1 

^H  1 

^  1  !  ^ ! 

i 
1 

;  ^^H 

1  ■'. .  i  lii 

i  '.I'  ti ' 

" '       ' ,     n 

■      i"|!   ii 

^  ' 

II 

1 

1 

1  , 

1        %   i 

1 

!■•;',            1 

H  ll  \  i 

1 

'    t'  I , 

11  ■  '■'"]  'i  1 

1 

U 1  »'' '' 

i  i 

*•;               \ 

ra  1 

1 1 

1     *: '                   1 

■H 

1 

j:|i;!:: 

1 

!'            1 

11  M  : 

1 1 

:          1 

IE ;  : 

1 

! 

■    ■  I       '                                  '                     i 

■E  ii 

1  1 

'   •       '  :  ■                                'A 

U 

■  v  tJ.                1 

H  i-^^l- 

)  i '   ■        "  1 3 

1      III!    i''i  '     ' 

■  i^;-'    ^     i.     '1 

1    11  ^:|i 

,"'       Ii 

r  t  ]' 

I'll 

Si  \  .'  ^'. 

r                1 

ill  ''li^ 

—  4-                                    -?       ^H 

V  tm  1     ' '  p  ' ' 

'In 

in  §' T   '  < '  1    ' 

1     1 

B  I'm'    i  ''li  ' 

'  '■                                        ; 

1 1 

' 

tv  '  ■  ^    ■  '> 

1  'f  ■  i 

II 

Hi  ,                          ^     f 

1  'i    .    ''ilili! 

'.{•■  ;                          i   ' 

1  ^'        i  '1' 

iii'            -    .    ! 

1  i,:>     '    !Ii 
1 

ifif''    n   '"  ;: 

1          •■ 

.;  i,  ,     ,                     .     -      ; 

,    '    ■  '         Jl' 

-'■  i  ■       *'                      \  \       \\ 

,    ; 

,  ;  ■■            ,'                                        ,: 

il   ;.  .':' 

■  i 

■fl  .   ■■                -    I 

!:'■  i''    ' 

1 

i 

Ik  ■  i 

LM 

,  i 
1 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^H 

■iL 

510 


BRTTTSII  CO  ULMBIA . 


young  men  of  the  tribes.  To  them  are  paid  an- 
nually immense  sums  for  their  labor.  To  these 
occupations  multitudes  add  hop-picking,  at  the  sea- 
son. Some  of  them  make  journeys  by  water  of 
one  and  two  hundred  miles  for  the  purpose,  spend- 
ing a  couple  of  weeks  on  the  way.  Large  delega- 
tions may  be  seen  in  the  fields  of  (ho.  White,  Green, 
and  Puyallup  rivers. 

A  friend  in  Tacoma,  speaking  recently  of  these 
northern  Indians,  said  that,  upon  visiting  their  tents 
one  Sunday  morning  during  the  hop-season  on  their 
own  farm,  she  found  one  of  the  women  making  her 
toilet  for  the  day  with  comb,  brush,  and  mirror  as 
nice  as  any  lady  needs,  while  near  by  stood  a  "  Sara- 
toga trunk"  containing  her  clothing.  A  comfor- 
table mattress  formed  her  bed.  Throu^^diout  the 
t^iUt  cleanliness  and  order  reigned. 

An  entertaining  volume,  instead  of  a  few  para- 
graphs, might  be  written  upon  the  Indian  tribes  of 
British  Columbia.  Several  distinct  languages,  and 
numerous  dialects  are  spoken  by  them.  On  the 
Queen  Charlotte  Islands,  speaking  a  tongue  differ- 
ent from  that  of  any  other  tribe,  dwell  the  Haidahs, 
a  people  especially  worthy  of  notice.  Also,  along 
the  ocean  coast  of  Vancouver  Island  live  interest- 
ing tribes,  much  engaged  in  catching  the  fur-seal. 
Adroit  at  the  pursuit,  they  are  invaluable  to  the  fur 
companies. 


gUBKN  UlGTOI^IA'S  flMEI^IGAN  DOMAIN. 


THE  "Dominion  of  Canada"  comprises  the  fol- 
lowing ten  provinces,  named  in  their  order — 
with  a  single  exception — from  the  Pacific  Coast 
eastward:  British  Cohimhia,  Alberta,  Assinihoia, 
Manitoba,  Ontario,  Quebec,  New  Brunswick,  Nova 
Scotia,  Prince  Edward's  Island,  and  "The  North- 
west Territories,"  an  immense  region  of  country 
stretching  northward,  from  several  of  the  western 
provinces,  to  the  Arctic  Ocean,  and  forming  the 
exception  mentioned.  Cape  Breton  Island  is  at- 
tached to  Nova  Scotia — the  Acadian  Land  and  early 
home  of  Evangeline.  To  the  Province  of  British 
Columbia  belongs  the  Island  of  Vancouver,  and, 
also,  the  Queen  Charlotte  Islands,  with  the  city  of 
Victoria  for  the  capital. 

Like  the  United  States,  the  Dominion  of  Canada 
extends  from  ocean  to  ocean,  and  is  a  territory  about 
equal  to  the  whole  of  Europe.  From  its  extreme 
western,  to  its  most  eastern  limit,  is  a  distance  sev- 
eral hundred  miles  greater  than  from  Liverpool  to 
Montreal,  and  that  is  a  stretch  of  three  thousand  and 
fifty-three  miles.     From  Dalhousie  Square  Station, 

in   Montreal,  the   present  eastern   terminus  of  the 

oil 


Vv.  ' 


-*' 


:n 


pi 


512 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


H  •' 


li    II; 


I     :;! 


fji 


p  n  a- 


Canadian  Pacific  Railway,  to  Port  Moody,  at  its 
western  end,  is  two  thousand  eight  hundred  and 
ninety-five  miles,  making  the  route  from  Liverpool 
to  the  Pacific  sea-board,  five  thousand  nine  hundred 
and  forty-eight  miles,  a  distance  eight  hundred  and 
forty-one  miles  shorter  than  from  Liverpool  to  San 
Francisco,  by  the  Union  and  Central  Pacific  Roads. 

As  every  school-boy  knows,  the  law-making  cen- 
ter of  (lie  Dominion  is  Ottawa,  in  the  Province  of 
Ontario.  Like  Washington,  our  own  civil  capital, 
it  is  situated  near  the  Atlantic  verge  of  the  pro- 
digious territory  over  which  it  legislates. 

The  British  possessions  in  North  America  em- 
brace an  area  of  timbered  and  arable  land  estimated 
at  two  million  square  miles.  Of  this  immense  ex- 
panse "  about  seventy  thousand  s([uare  miles  only, 
or,  an  extent  but  six  square  miles  larger  than 
Washington  Territory,  are  devoted  to  practical  in- 
dustries, and  of  even  this  fraction,  only  about  one- 
half  is  under  fine  improvement.  The  tromendous 
remainder  is  virtually  soil  unbroken.  But,  of  this, 
it  is  estimated  that  at  least  one-half  is  splendidly 
adapted  to  wheat.  Conceive,  now,  of  an  estate  one 
million  square  miles  in  extent.  Add  together 
Merry  England,  Old  Scotia,  Green  Erin,  and  Bible- 
loving  Wales,  and  multiply  the  sum  by  eight,  and 
still  you  have  not  enough  to  equal  it. 

Again  :  The  entire  Canadian  Dominion  is  more 
than    thirty-two   times   larger   thnn   Great    Britain, 


VICTORIA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


513 


m 


dy,  at  its 
idred   and 
Liverpool 
le  hundred 
mdred  and 
)ool  to  San 
jific  Roads. 
:iakiug  cen- 
;*rovince  of 
ivil  capital, 
of  the  pro- 

s. 

Lmerica  em- 
nd  estimated 
Immense  ex- 
miles  only, 
larger    than 
practical  in- 
y  about  one- 
e  trsmendous 
But,  of  tliis, 
is  splendidly 
an  estate  one 
\.dd    together 
in,  and  Bible- 
by  eight,  and 

uinion  is  more 
Great    Britain, 


I 


and  con<-ain8  not  more  than  five  raiilions  of  people! 
The  Mother  Country  bears  on  her  bosom  nearly 
forty  millions!  Canada,  then,  has  room  for  more 
than  thirty-two  times  all  Great  Britain's  toiling 
poor,  allowing  a  small  homestead  for  every  family. 
London  alone  has  a  population  equal  to  that  of  ail 
Canada!  What  a  golden  opportunity  the  vast 
Dominion  offers  the  Knights  of  Labor  and  all  labor 
leagues  to  transport  to,  and  locate  upon,  these  rich 
acres,  thousands  of  Britain's  needy  children.  Aided 
until  well  established  on  soil  of  their  own,  they 
would  certainly  be  in  a  position  to  dispense  with 
the  services  of  their  doubtful  friend,  JNIr.  Strikes; 
for  w'hen  have  the  farmers  of  any  land  been  known 
to  combine  by  many. thousands,  to  leave  their  fields, 
and  refuse  to  rai.se  another  bushel  of  wheat,  corn, 
or  oats,  until  the  heavy  grain-dealers  advanced  the 
prices  to  their  demand? 

Upon  the  agricultural  lands  contiguous  to  the 
Canadian  Pacific  Railway  might  settle,  the  next 
twenty  years,  a  half  million  of  people.  "  Yes,  but 
the  Winters  are  Arctic,"  you  .say.  So,  too,  are  the 
Summers  too  warm  in  Florida;  but  those  who  have 
interests  there  manage  to  endure  them. 

Let  us  now  glance  at  some  of  the  western  prov- 
inces of  the  Dominion,  beginning  with  Manitoba, 
those  fiirther  east  being  better  known.  Here  we 
have  a  district  one  hundred  and  twenty-three  thou- 
sand square  miles  in  extent,  and  generously  watered 


it  ^ 


kit 


.■t 


b  i* 


514 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


by  lakes  and  rivers.  The  city  of  Winnepeg,  four 
hundred  miles  north-west  of  Lake  Superior,  is  its 
metropolis,  and  the  central  city  of  the  Canadian 
Dominion.  Its  population  is  in  the  neighborhood 
of  thirty  thousand.  The  fiftieth  line  of  latitude 
runs  some  miles  north  of  the  city,  and  directly,  I 
think,  through  Land's  End,  England.  Therefore, 
Winnepeg  is  farther  south  than  any  town  of  the 
British  Isles.  But,  situated  midway  between  the 
great  oceans,  its  atmosphere  softened  by  the  warm 
stream  of  neither,  it  is  robbed  of  the  perpetual 
Spring  climate  of  Land's  End.  Snow  falls  to  the 
depth  of  five  and  six  feet,  and  comes  for  a  long 
sojourn.  Situated  at  the  junction  of  the  Red  and 
Assiniboine  Rivers,  Winnepeg  is  the  door  to  the 
boundless  country  beyond,  known  even  there,  as  the 
"  vast  North-west."  The  city  occupies  the  site  of 
old  Fort  Gatry,  renowned,  early  in  the  century,  as 
the  center  of  affairs  for  the  Hiidson  Bay  Company 
within  this  immense  territory. 

The  Red  River,  nearly  six  hundred  miles  in 
length,  having  watered,  bountifully.  North-eastern 
Dakota,  and,  by  its  tributaries,  North-western  Min- 
nesota, drains  ten  thousand  square  miles  of  Man- 
itoba; >vhile  the  Assiniboine,  restricting  its  blessings 
mostly  to  Canadian  soil,  refreshes  not  less  than 
sixty  thousand  square  miles  of  country,  much  the 
larger  part  of  which  is  extremely  productive.  This 
water-course    penetrates    the    broad    Saskatchewan 


VICTORIA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


515 


g,  four 
,  is  its 
\nadian 
)or\iood 
latitude 

•ectly,  I 
lerefore, 
I  of  the 
veen  the 
tie  warm 
perpetual 
Is  to  the 
r   a   long 

Red  and 
or  to  the 
^re,  as  the 
le  site  of 
entury,  as 

Company 

miles  in 
th-eastern 
tern  Min- 
5  of  Man- 
s  blessings 
less    than 
much  the 
tive.     This 
^katchewan 


land,  stretching  far  to  the  nortii,  and  west  of  Lakes 
Winnepeg  and  Manitoba.  There,  too,  in  the  midst 
of  deeper  snows,  and,  if  possible,  an  object  of  deeper 
interest,  flows  the  lardly  Saskatchewan,  draining  an 
enormous  area,  and  aifording  fifteen  hundred  miles 
of  free  navigation.  It  has  two  princely  branches, 
both  of  which  leap  out  of  the  heart  of  mountains, 
rough  and  bold. 

From  a  point  sixty  miles  east  of  the  city  of 
Winnepeg  to  the  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  a 
distance  of  over  a  thousand  miles,  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railway  traverses  almost  continuous  prairie, 
varying  in  breadth,  according  to  Sir  Alexander 
Gait,  from  four  hundred  to  six  hundred  miles. 
Arranged  in  three  successive  steppes,  all  of  great 
width  from  east  to  west,  it  is  probably  the  largest 
continuous  wheat  section  of  the  continent.  These 
steppes  have  respectively  an  altitude  above  sea-level 
of  eight  hundred,  sixteen  hundred,  and  thirty-two 
hundred  feet.  Already  there  have  sprung  up  on  these 
expanses  numerous  nuclei  for  towns,  several  of 
which,  on  the  line  of  the  great  railway,  are  notable 
in  their  way.  Contiguous  to  Indian  Head,  for  in- 
stance, is  the  celebrated  Bell  Farm,  fifty  thousand 
acres  in  extent,  and  the  property  of  the  Qu'  Appelle 
Valley  Farming  Company.  Its  cultivation  for 
wheat  began  in  1882.  Thousands  of  its  acres  are 
now  annually  sown  with  that  cereal,  and  all  the 
operations  are  conducted  on  a  generous  scale.     The 


•;'jii 


m:>i  N 


.'t 


\l 


i  !  t| 


516 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


details  of  the  enterprise,  like  those  of  all  great  un- 
dertakings, are  most  interesting. 

Another  point  worthy  of  mention  is  Rogina, 
three  hundred  and  fifty  miles  west  of  Winnepeg, 
and  the  capital  of  Assinihoia.  Away  from  it 
stretches  the  wide  "  Plain  of  Rogina,"  one  of  the 
leargest  wheat-tracts  of  the  three  vast  meadows. 
Here  are  located  the  Indian  and  other  bureaus  of 
the  Province,  and  the  residence  of  the  lieutenant- 
governor.  The  place  is  the  head-quarters,  also,  of 
that  semi-military  body  known  as  the  "  North-west- 
ern Mounted  Police,"  a  corps  of  men  whose  special 
duty  it  is  to  "  maintain  law  and  order  over  a  region 
extending  westward  from  the  border  of  Manitoba 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  and  northward  from 
the  United  States  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles." 
The  men  are  selected  for  their  bravery,  fidelity,  and 
powers  of  endurance.  They  are  armed  with  a  sword, 
carbine,  pistols,  and  cartridge  belt.  Their  uniform 
includes  a  scarlet  jacket,  the  peculiar  insignia  of 
their  service.  In  age  they  range  from  twenty-two 
to  forty  years.  Every  candidate  for  a  position  on 
the  fi)ree  must  be  soiind  in  mind,  body,  and  char- 
acter, and  must  enlist  for  five  years.  The  service 
involves  great  privation  and  personal  danger,  and 
not  infrequently  requires  the  utmost  exertion  of 
their  powers.  Notwithstanding,  the  life  has  its  fas- 
cinations. Numbers  of  the  men  have  continued  in 
the  service  for  years.     Their  horses  are  fleet,  saga- 


VICTORIA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


517 


cious,  as  reliable,  and  as  capable  of  endurance  as 
their  riders.  Points  of  rendezvous  for  the  organi- 
tation  are  scattered  all  over  the  broad  region. 

Jusl,  a  line  now  with  regard  to  Stephen,  near  the 
sumtTiit  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  five  thousand 
three  hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  Stephen  marks 
the  highest  altitude  attained  by  the  Canadian  Pacific 
in  its  course  across  the  continent,  and  is  in  the 
Province  of  British  Columbia.  It  also  denotes  the 
dividing  line  of  the  streams,  some  of  which  flow 
eastward  to  the  great  meadows,  others  westward  to 
the  mighty  ocean. 

A!l  over  the  wide  mesa  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
the  thermometer  registers  a  low  temperature  in 
Winter.  But  over  the  greater  part  of  it  the  air  is 
extremely  dry  and  produces  none  of  the  searching 
chilliness  felt  during  the  rainy  season  in  Western 
Washington.  But  the  rigor  is  far  more  dangerous. 
To  be  exposed  for  any  length  of  time,  not  well  pro- 
tected, is  fatal  to  one.  A  gentleman  recently  re- 
turned from  several  years'  sojourn  '..  the  distant 
Saskatchewan  land,  says,  that  for  wccks  each  A /inter 
the  cold  was  so  intense  as  to  .preclude  venturing  far 
from  one's  door  unless  doubly  clad,  'f  riding,  and 
in  brisk  motion  if  on  foot.  Another  feature  of  life 
in  those  latitudes  is  the  feeling  of  loneliness,  in- 
duced by  the  boundless  distance  and  the  intermina- 
ble  expanse  of  snow   surrounding   a   person.     An 

intelligent  Englishman  engaged  in  business  on  the 

44 


lf:il,\ 


m 


>mv\ 


■1";1 


If 


VP 


518 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


fii 


:lBi 


II 


upper  waters  of  the  Fraser  llivcr,  east  iie  Coast 
Range  of  Mountains,  was  heard  to  say  not  long  ago : 

"Every  Autumn  I  bring  my  wife  and  ohiklren 
down  to  Victoria  for  the  Winter.  No  consideration 
could  induce  me  to  retain  them  in  a  region  so  deso- 
late and  inhospitable.  So  overwhelming,  before 
Spring,  becomes  the  feeling  of  loneliness,  that  I  fear 
some  of  us  would  lose  our  reason.  For  a  few  weeks 
we  do  not  mind  it.  But  as  the  season  advances, 
the  days  becoming  shorter  and  the  nights  longer,  a 
painful  silence  pervades  the  intermin'  field  of 
snow  around  us,  and  a   dull   leaden  Jretches 

above  our  heads,  rendering  cheerfulness  impossible. 
Then  we  are  ready  to  make  any  sacrifice  to  get 
away.  We  barely  survived  one  Winter,  and  shall 
never  try  another." 

These  were  genuine  experiences,  and  yet  hut  one 
side  of  the  story.  Every  latitude  presents  hin- 
drances to  human  happiness.  Every  clime,  too, 
offers  some  prime  advantage,  some  chief  delight. 
Of  this  truth  the  plains  of  Saskatchewan  afford  a 
beautiful  illustration  at  the  approach  of  Spring. 
The  gentleman  previously  quoted,  states  that  he  has 
seen  snow  five  feet  in  depth  disappear  as  if  by 
magic,  and  lo!  the  ground  beneath  would  be  car- 
peted with  thick,  green  grass  or  grain.  In  these 
North  lands,  then,  Winter  does  not  linger  a  month 
or  six  weeks  in  the  lap  of  Spring,  but  promptly 
spreads  his  wings  and  is  gone.     Still,  many  would 


VWTOIilA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


519 


not  choose  to  tukc  the  much  bitter  for  the  sake  of 
the  little  sweet. 

From  Stephen  travelers  descend  the  everlasting 
hills,  speed  across  British  Columbia,  and  make  their 
exit  at  Port  Moody,  on  Hurrard  Inlet,  the  distance 
being  five  hundred  and  one  miles.  To  this  won- 
derfully diversified  and  |»i(tn risque  Province  let  us 
now  give  a  passing  glance,  using  information  care- 
fidly  collected  from  several  sources.  Shoidd  the 
reader  have  before  him  a  good  map  of  this  member 
of  the  Canadian  Confederation,  he  will  see  that  no 
part  of  the  Pacific  Slope  excels  it  in  the  variety 
£,nd  grandeur  of  its  physical  features.  Lofty  mount- 
ains, deep  lakes,  dense  forests,  or  lonely  plains,  in- 
vite attention  to  every  part.  It  contains  a  half 
score  of  splendid  lakes,  remarkable  for  the  dispro- 
portion between  their  length  and  breadth.  A  no- 
table cluster  lies  far  up  in  the  north-western  corner. 
Another  galaxy  gems  the  south-eastern  section. 
The  latter  are  really  but  rivers  expanded  in  places 
to  miles  in  breadth. 

Twice  on  its  way  down  to  the  ocean,  the  Cana- 
dian Pacific  Railway  crosses  the  Columbia  River, 
which  makes  an  enormous  detour  in  the  eastern  part 
of  the  Province,  with  the  Selkirk  Mountains  piled 
high  upon  the  tongue  of  land  around  which  it  flows. 
And  not  long  before  the  locomotive  encounters  the 
Cascade  Mountains — the  Coast  Range  of  British 
Columbia — it  is  confronted  by  the  Fraser  River,  a 


m 


% 


520 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


f 


i 


V  r 


powerful,  impetuous  stream,  rendered  particularly 
famous  by  the  discovery  of  gold  on  its  upper  wnters 
in  1858.  The  Fraser  rises  in  a  high  latitude  of 
the  Province,  where  its  branches  are  spread  out  like 
those  of  a  great  banyan-tree.  Finally,  united  into 
one  strong  trunk,  their  waters  push  southward  to 
near  the  border  of  the  United  States,  where,  bend- 
ing suddenly  to  the  west,  they  make  for  the  sea. 

When  reports  of  the  gold  discovery  on  the  Fra- 
ser reached  California,  where  the  excitement  of  '49 
had  considerably  abated,  there  turned  immediately 
from  that  State  toward  this  less  hospitable  land,  a 
great  tide  of  miners,  in  hot  haste  for  the  precious 
metal.  Perils  and  hardships  crowded  the  way,  and 
in  the  dismal  race  many  a  man  lost  his  life,  "  a 
mere  handful  of  the  whole  reaching  the  diggings  and 
securing  fortunes."  Some  wisely  stopped  short  in 
the  journey,  accepted  other  occupations,  prospered 
at  them,  and  to-day  are  influential  citizens  of  the 
Fraser  River  country. 

British  Columbia  is  pre-eminently  the  gold-bear- 
ing province  of  the  Dominion,  a  fact  which  affords 
a  striking  illustration  of  the  Creator's  kindly  pro- 
vision for  the  needs  of  man.  See!  Within  a  few 
hours'  travel  westward  from  the  great  wheat-steppes 
lies  a  domain  richly  stored  with  the  means  for 
bringing  the  grain  from  the  soil.  Thus  can  the 
Canadians  make  one  hand  wash  the  other,  as  the  Gor- 
mann  say.    Gold-land  and  bread-land  lie  side  by  side. 


VICTORIA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


521 


Three  widely  separated  localities  comprise  the 
sections,  at  present  prospected  and  worked  to  any 
extent.  Through  one  of  the  most  prolific  of  these, 
the  Kootenay  Gold-field,  the  Canadian  Railway 
passes.  It  is  partly  American,  partly  British  ter- 
ritory. In  its  development  both  English  and  Ameri- 
can capitalists  are  interested.  The  Canadian  portion, 
shaped  like  au  immense  triangle,  is  bounded  by  the 
Rocky  Mountains  on  the  east,  the  forty-ninth  parallel 
on  the  south,  and  the  Columbia  on  the  west.  The 
Kootenay  River  tumbles  and  boils  through  the  dis- 
trict from  north  to  south,  making  a  majesic  sweep  into 
Washington  Territory,  and  thence,  returning  to  the 
Dominion,  pours  through  Lake  Kootenay,  and  later 
swells  the  waters  of  the  Columbia  a  little  north  of 
our  boundary  line.  All  in  all,  South-eastern  British 
Columbia  is  a  remarkable  land.  Superb  mountains, 
impetuous  streams,  and  deep  lakes,  full  of  trout,  are 
some  of  its  charms.  Nor  are  the  gentler  features 
of  nature  lacking.  There  are  picturesque  scenes  by 
the  score,  besides  areas  for  pasturage  and  acres  for 
cultivation. 

The  first  gold  found  in  Kootenay  was  by  the 
British  Boundary  Commission,  in  1862.  For  some 
years  past  the  mines  have  yielded  well,  and  give  no 
indications  of  failure.  A  sturdy  German  returned 
after  a  prolonged  sojourn  in  the  district,  says  of  it: 
"In  the  mountains  plenty  of  gold.  In  the  men 
there,  plenty  of  love  for  it,  with  much  badness,  and 


i     > 


\  '1   f 


ill 


li,!  j: 


''I 

:  ii  I 


■■1 ;    ■! 

Pi  !i 

ill 


.  mi 


il  .III;! 


Hi 


m 


11'"' 


Sri 


"ill  ■■ 


522 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


luck  not  for  every  body."  No  doubt  that  is  a  fair 
statement  of  the  facts  in  the  case. 

Shall  we  now  turn  our  eye  toward  the  extreme 
north-western  corner  of  *'  .'rovince?  Up  in  the 
very  realm  of  the  frost-king  we  find  another  trian- 
gular area  of  immense  extent,  celebrated  for  its 
auriferous  deposit.  Twenty-five  years  ago  prospect- 
ing for  gold  was  conducted  therein  by  two  hardy 
and  experienced  miners,  with  such  success  that,  soon 
after,  they  were  re-enforced  by  a  large  member  of 
men.  "There  was  scarcely  a  bar  in  its  rivers  which 
did  not  yield  an  industrious  man  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  dollars  ])er  day."  This  gold-land  is  Omi- 
neca — "  Mountain  Whortleberry."  Its  altitude  is 
consideral)ly  lower  than  surrounding  parts  of  the 
Province,  to  which  circumstance  is  attributed  its 
longer  working  season,  or  the  holding  off  a  little  of 
the  terrors  of  Winter. 

These  opposite  localities  are  rivals  as  to  scenic 
features.  Three  lofty  mountain  chains  inclose  Omi- 
neca  as  with  a  loop.  Within  this  loop  spring  the 
sources  of  the  great  Peace  River,  a  lordly  tributary 
of  the  Mackenzie.  Hence,  Omineca  is  said  to  lie 
on  the  head-waters  of  the  Peace  River.  Rolling 
due  eastward  about  two  hundred  miles,  the  stream 
pierces  the  Rocky  Mountains,  flows  on  to  and 
tlirough  Great  Slave  liake,  and,  uniting  with  the 
Mackenzie,  journeys  with  it  to  the  Polar  Sea.  The 
"Finlay  Branch  of  Peace  River,"  as  it  is  called, 


VICTORIA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


523 


forms   the   boundary   line  of  British   Cokmibia,   iu 
latitude  56°  north.     Omineca  embraces  prodigious 


Th-  V/ilclc:  of  Cmineoa. 

forests,  which  abound  in  game,  as  do  its  rivers  in  fish. 
It  is  distant  from  Victoria  nine  hundred  miles. 
East  of  the  Fraser  River,  about  midway  between 


m 


mm 


m 


if! 


.'^If' 


■V\''l 


.i    i 


II 


1 ' '  [ 


r 


iM  il 


,  (■  '('I 


B 


!!<  IP 


524 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


Kootenay  and  Omineca,  we  shall  enter  the  third 
famous  gold  district  of  British  Columbia.  Less 
rugged  and  desolate  than  the  latter,  it  is  yet  known 
among  mining  men  as  "the  wilds  of  Caribou." 
For  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  the  term  has  been 
almost  synonymous  with  gold,  all  over  the  West. 
As  early  as  1858  certain  miners  from  the  "  Fraser 
River  Diggings  "  penetrated  the  locality,  and  about 
the  mouths  of  creeks  and  rivers  emptying  into  Car- 
ibou Lake,  found  fortunes  of  the  precious  metal. 
Three  years  later  fifteen  hundred  miners  were  in  the 
vicinity,  scattered  along  the  streams,  whose  banks 
and  bars  promised  the  speediest  rewards.  Their 
aggregate  findings  for  that  season  footed  up  to  two 
million  dollars.  It  was  estimated  that  ten  thousand 
persons  left  Victoria  the  next  year,  1862,  for  this 
Ophir  of  the  Pacific.  One-half  the  number,  fright- 
ened by  the  lions  in  the  way,  relinquished  their  pur- 
pose, and  never  set  eyes  on  the  Northern  Eldorado. 
The  braver  five  thousand  brought  away  three  mill- 
ion dollars  as  the  reward  o^  their  valor. 

As  in  California,  inestimable  benefits  have  fol- 
lowed this  mad  rush  to  Caribou  for  gold.  Along 
that  splendid  water-course,  the  Fraser  River,  many 
fine  farms  and  comfortable  homes  exist  as  out- 
growths of  the  movement.  The  whole  history  of 
mining  on  the  Pacific  Coast  shows,  that  no  sooner 
have  remarkably  rich  deposits  been  discovered,  than 
iminodiato  steps  have  been  taken  to  secure  reliable 


f    ?4  ! 


i;i 


VICTORIA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


525 


coramiinlcatioii  between  the  localities  and  the 
sources  of  supply,  for  the  miners,  /ind  thus  came, 
in  great  part,  the  ciiduring  roads,  the  stable  bridges, 
and  even  the  railways,  now  so  indispensable.     Indi- 


A Road  to  the  Mines. 

viduals,  corporations,  and  State  authorities,  have  all 

borne  a  part  in  constructing  such  passage-ways.     A 

succeeding    step    was    the    founding    of   churches, 

schools,  libraries,  hospitals,  and   asylums.     And  to 

one  who  reflects  how  recently  society  began  to  form 

45 


Ml 


,'!  i 


M   ■• 


520 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


on  our  western  border,  the  number  of  these  institu- 
tions is  simply  bewildering. 

In  British  Columbia  is  to  be  seen  a  remarkable 
specimen  of  engineering  in  the  form  of  a  roadway, 
which  is, the  "direct  outgrowth  of  gold  discovery 
on  the  upper  waters  of  the  Fraser,  and  in  the  wilds 
of  C:i  ,bou."  In  two  sections,  and  one  hundred 
and  fifteen  miles  in  length,  this  road  extends  up  the 
bank  of  the  Fraser  from  Yale,  the  head  of  steam 
navigation,  to  the  town  of  Lillooet.  It  was  built  by 
the  English  government,  and  when  constructed,  is 
said  to  have  been  the  most  notable  work  of  the 
kind  on  the  coast.  Long  sections  were  made  along 
the  face  of  the  steep,  rocky  cliffs,  where,  it  had  been 
supposed,  not  even  the  dextrous  mule  could  travel 
with  safety.  In  these  places  a  bed  for  the  road 
was  obtained  "by  blasting  away  the  face  of  the 
cliffs  for  miles." 

No  other  coast  in  the  world,  it  has  been  said, 
except  that  of  Norway,  is  so  deeply  and  frequently 
indented  by  arms  of  the  sea,  as  is  British  Columbia. 
Indeed,  it  is  not  only  richly  fringed  Avith  tongues 
of  land,  but  is  magnificently  bordered  i>y  valuable 
islands.  Some  one  has  ascertained  that  its  coast 
line,  including  that  of  the  deep  recesses,  and  of  the 
numerous  islands,  measures  upwards  of  seven  thou- 
sand statute  miles.  Altogether,  the  Province  is  a 
ceaseless  wonder-land,  everywhere  full  of  interest. 
Its  area  is  three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  squart 


ustitu- 

irkable 
ad  way, 
scovery 
le  wilds 
lundred 
5  up  the 
,f  steam 
built  by 
ucted,  if> 
:  of  the 
.de  along 
had  been 
Id  travel 
the  road 
of  the 


)een  s 


aid, 


trc 


qnently 
;;olumbia. 
tongues 
huible 


va 


its  coast 
d  of  the 


m 


jven 


thou- 


Evince  is  a 
if  interest, 
md  i^quaic 


VICTORIA'S  AMERICAN  DOMAIN. 


527 


miles.  In  1882,  seventy  thousand  was  the  estimated 
population.  Previous  to  1866,  the  Island  of  Van- 
couver and  the  Province,  were  known  as  the  Colonies 
of  Vancouver  and  New  Georgia,  names  affixed  to 
them  by  Captain  Vancouver.  They  were,  in  that 
year,  incorporated  in  one  Province  by  royal  edict. 
The  Gulf  of  Georgia  separates  the  island  from  the 
main-land. 

A  daily  line  of  steamers  connects  Port  Moody 
with  Victoria,  whence  transcontinental  passengers, 
bound  to  the  ocean,  make  their  exit,  via  the  Strait 
of  Juan  de  Fuca.  As  yet  Port  Moody  is  a  town 
in  the  act  of  taking  root;  but  like  Tacoma,  at  the 
head  of  Piiget  Sound,  and  San  Francisco,  at  the 
Golden  Gate,  it  holds  a  superlative  position  for 
commerce. 


y  .-4 


T 


fj*  i  I  ^     *'     " 


' 


19 


::i!lli 


I<II. 

She  FjEipai^N  Down  the  Sound. 


AT  one  o'clock  yesterday  afternoon  I  stepped  on 
board  the  elegant  steamer  Olympian,  in  Vic- 
toria, on  my  return  to  the  city,  wherein  there  are 
no  Chinese.  I  had  taken  but  a  hasty  view  of  the 
Queen's  land,  yet  that  glimpse  had  in  a  general  way 
comprehended  the  whole,  had  given  me  outline 
views,  which  I  hoped  to  fill  in  with  details  of  the 
provinces  at  a  later  day. 

There  remained  a  half-hour  before  the  boat 
Would  turn  her  prow  southward.  I  utilized  this 
time  by  studying  the  pleasant  city,  James  Bay,  and 
the  shipping  in  the  harbor,  from  the  windows  of  her 
fealon.  My  attention  was  soon  attracted  by  a  small 
eteamer,  wedged  in  between  two  imperial-looking 
craft,  but  a  few  rods  above  us. 

"  That  little  steamer — the  second  one  you  see," 
said  a  fine-looking  Englishman,  standing  near,  an(i 
who  proved  to  be  the  captain  of  a  merchantman 
which  had  recently  discharged,  at  Tacoma,  a  large 
cargo  of  tea  brought  direct  from  Japan,  "  is  the  first 
boat  that  ever  turned  a  wheel  in  the  Pacific.  She 
is  called  The  Beaver,  and  was  built  in  London.    She 

left  that  port  for  Fort  Vancouver,  on  the  Columbia 

528 


THE  EETURN  DOWN  THE  SOUND. 


529 


River,  in  1838^  and  has  been  in  constant  service 
ever  since.  She  was  a  craft  of  prodigious  strength. 
There  is  scarcely  a  sunken  rock  in  all  this  vast  sys- 
tem of  inland  waters,  which  she  has  not  found,  not 
because  she  sought  them  but  because  she  struck 
them.  She  is  now  engaged  in  the  north-coast  trade, 
and  will  last  for  years,  yet.  At  the  next  dock 
above,  lies  The  Otter,  an  equally  notable  steamer. 
She  is  the  second  boat  that  ever  turned  a  wheel  in 
this  ocean,  ai\d  is  still  young  and  strong,  though 
both  herself  and  The  Beaver  are  nearly  fifty  years 
old.  Both  were  built  in  the  most  thorough  manner 
and  of  the  best  quality  of  English  oak." 

While  looking  off  upon  tiie  city,  I  was  reminded 
that  the  Island  of  Vancouver,  is  nearly  three  hun- 
dred miles  long,  with  an  average  width  of  fifty 
miles,  and  an  area  estimated  at  twelve  thousand  five 
hundred  square  miles.  Much  of  its  surface  is  barren 
and  mountainous.  But  the  lower  hills  are  clothed 
with  a  dense  grass  of  which  the  domestic  animals 
are  said  to  be  very  fond.  The  arable  land,  and 
the  principal  settlements,  of  which  Victoria  is  the 
largest,  are  on  the  eastern  and  southern  shores. 
The  Pacific  side  is  occupied  chiefly  by  Indians,  of 
whom  there  are  some  twelve  tribes,  or  a  "  total  of 
about  seven  thousand  persons."  Catching  the  fur- 
seal  is  their  leading  pursuit,  the  men  spending  most 
of  their  time  in  their  canoes.  The  Abt  tribe  forms 
a  notable  exception  as  to  occupation  and  has  a  wide 


I'Vii 


■•  I 


■4 


UK 


IP!  ' ' 

IJIi 
Kill 


i 

■ill 

|!l 

i  !i 
1  1  ■ 

i  1 

1" 
i 

H  1 

1   i 

530 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


reputation  for  doing  skillful  work  in  gold,  silver, 
wood,  bone,  and  stone.  Their  manufiictures  out  of 
these  materials,  bring  high  prices,  and  no  little 
revenue,  to  the  island. 

Vancouver  exports  furs,  fish,  lumber,  and  coal. 
The  richest  coal-seam  lies  ou  (lie  inner  shore,  and 


The  Fur-Seal. 

extends  from  just  north  of  Victoria,  where  there  is 
a  valuable  vein,  fo  near  latitude  fifty-one  degrees. 
The  center  of  the  coal-mining  is  the  town  of  Nan- 
aimo,  a  thriving  place  with  a  fine  harbor,  some 
sixty-five  miles  north-west  of  Victoria,  "This," 
said  a  Victorian,  with  whom  I  talked  on  the  sub- 
ject, "  is  the  only  true  coal-bed  on  the  Pacific  Coast," 


/  r*  =-1 


0  there  is 
(logrees. 
of  Ntin- 

)or,  some 
'<  This," 
the  Piih- 

fic  Coast," 


THE  RETURN  DOWN  THE  iiOUND.  531 

a  remark  which  the  owners  of  mines  in  Washing- 
ton, wonld  probably  receive  at  a  discount.  The 
largest  market  for  the  Manaimo  fuel,  is  San  Fran- 
cisco. Twenty-two  thousand  tons  were  shipped  to 
that  port  last  year. 

From  my  position  on  the  steamer  I  could  well 
observe  the  passengers,  as  they  came  on  board 
through  the  ware-house,  aud  being  naturally  inter- 
ested in  tiie  meetings  and  ])artings  of  people,  I 
noticed  them  particularly.  Usually  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, persons  are  what  they  seem,  and  in  a 
moment  the  observer  advances  a  long  way  toward 
knowing  them.  The  Pacific  Coast  is  distinctively 
a  land  where  parting  benedictions  are  heard.  More 
than  once  in  my  journeyings  upon  it — I  say  it  grate- 
fully— has  the  short  sentence,  "God  bless  you!" 
been  spoken  for  my  cheering,  upon  bidding  some 
noble  woman  good-bye.  I  hear  their  voices  now, 
and  ever  shall. 

Making  their  way,  now,  through  a  medley  of 
trunks,  boxes,  draymen,  and  revenue  officers,  on  the 
wharf,  comes  a  party  of  young  people,  three  ladies 
and  a  gentleman,  wlro  evidently  enjoy  life;  for  all 
bear  themselves  in  the  free,  unburdened  manner 
which  so  surely  indicates  little  experience  of  care 
and  trouble.  But  the  remarkable  thing  about  them 
is,  that  all  are  the  children  and  grandchildren  of 
former  chief  factors  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company. 
And    all    are   cousins,   yet   represent   four  different 


49i! 


i,'' 


ipf^ 


,i-!; 


I        i 


f  I 


I!   :,-:v 


III 


\i: 


mm 


im 


532 


liRlTISfl  VOI.VMlilA. 


famili«^8,  being  the  chiklreu  of  four  sisters.  Let  us 
SCO  how  this  canje  about. 

Many  years  ago  a  man,  whose  name  was  John 
Werk,  found  himself  in  the  wilds  of  British  North 
America,  holding  two  very  responsible  positions. 
First,  he  was  the  chief  factor  of  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company ;  second  he  was  the  father  of  six  daugh- 
ters. As  these  maidens  arrived  at  womanhood  they 
evinced  a  marked  preference  for  their  father's  offi- 
cial position,  since  four  of  tlienj  married  supeiin- 
tendentsof  the  great  fur  compiiny.  These  men  WMjre 
Dr.  VVillitun  T(»lmie,  Roderick  Finlayson,  James 
(Iraham,  now  resident  in  Ijondon,  and  the  father  of 
the  young  man  now  aeeompanying  the  young  ladies 
to  the  steamer,  who,  with  his  ♦auiily  now  lives  neaf 
Fort  Nesqually  in  Washington  Territory.  Fort 
Nesqually  was  the  firs^  work  for  defense  against  the 
Indians,  erected  west  of  VancouVvir.  It  is  still  in 
existence,  I  think,  but  no  longer  serves  as  a  military 
station. 

Dr.  Tolmie,  a  prince  amoi"'  ^  ''^tnhmen  for  noble 
qualities,  occupies  a  pleasai  >iintry  honn  ^ome 
three  or  four  miles  out  from  Vi«  torin  and  has  con- 
siderably exceeded  the  allotted  years  of  human  life. 
He  is  noted  for  his  hospitality  and  for  Ids  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  North-west  in  an  early  day.  He 
has  attached  friends  in  all  j)arts  of  the  Sound 
country. 

The  three  young  ladies  have  walked  down  to  the 


TIIE  I'iETURN  VOnN  THE  SOUND. 


533 


lunding,  simply  to  see  their  cousin  fjMin  Nt'K(jiially 
on  board  ship.  At  the  last  moment,  while  the  deck- 
hands wait,  ropes  in  hand,  to  draw  in  the  plank,  they 
will  pass  ashore. 

But  what  means  this  lively  cmivei'sation  hchi-nd 
me?  Turning,!  soon  read  the  story.  While  I  had 
been  taking  mental  photographs  of  21ic  Braver,  and 
of  the  picturesque  points  on  shore,  a  party  of  two 
ladies  and  several  gentlemen  had  entered  the  salon. 
One  of  the  latter  proved  to  be  Mr.  Edgar  C.  Baker, 
member  of  the  Canadian  Parliament  from  British 
Columbia.  The  younger  lady  was  his  wife;  the 
elderly  one  her  mother.  She  had  been  summoned 
rather  suddenly  to  Portland  by  the  illness  of  a  near 
relative.  These  friends  had  very  kindly  attended 
her  to  the  steamer  to  brighten  her  departure  by  in- 
troducing her  to  the  gentlemanly  captain,  and  by 
saying  a  whole  chapter  of  pleasant  things  at  the 
last.  And,  certainly,  in  these  grateful  ministries, 
the  "  member  frcrr^  Victoria  "  excelled  every  other 
son-in-law  extant.  So  repc^.tc^'ly  did  he  charge  the 
lady  to  "take  good  care  of  b.rself,"  to  "not  fall 
ill,"  to  "  not  worry,"  etc.,  that  one  of  the  party,  a 
gentleman  of  magisterial  bearing,  who  had  been 
pacing  back  and  forth  through  the  long  salon, 
stopped  and  exclaimed,  while  evidently  delighted 
with  all  he  had  heard : 

"That's  right,  Baker,  keep  on  the  right  side 
of  vour  mother-in-law." 


i  t\ 


534 


BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 


\m 


Jif 'if! 

w  nil  i- 


k 


!  'J 


Mil  «*      «4  i 


i;!„n' 


Tliis  brought  forth  a  merry  peal  of  laughter  from 
the  whole  group,  none  joining  in  it  more  heartily 
than  the  mother-in-law  herself  But  at  last  came 
the  leave-taking,  when  all  shook  hands  with  the 
lady,  aud  fairly  buried  her  under  good  wishes, 
as  the  son  and  daughter  kissed  her,  and  said: 
"Good-bye." 

Then  she  was  alone.  Three  minutes  passed,  per- 
haps. The  last  notes  of  the  steamer's  bell  were 
pealing  through  the  air.  Suddenly  there  was  a 
sound  of  one  running  from  forward,  and  in  flew 
Mr.  Baker,  saying,  in  breathless  haste — the  captain 
following: 

"Mother,  here's  the  captain.  He'll  wait  upon 
you  down  to  dinner.  At  Tacoma  he  will  place  you 
on  the  train  for  Portland.  As  soon  as  the  steamer 
gets  outside,  the  purser  will  come  up  and  give  you 
a  nice  room.  Now,  good-bye.  Don't  get  sick. 
Good-bye." 

He  shook  her  hand.  He  _was  gone.  The  cap- 
tain said  the  proper  things,  aud  was  gone. 

Then,  looking  around  a  moment  upon  the  pas- 
sengers, the  lady  left  her  seat,  crossed  the  room, 
and,  taking  a  chair  beside  me,  asked: 

"Madam,  are  you  goiug  to  Portland?" 

"Yes,  madam,  but  not  immediately." 

Then  we  fell  into  conversation,  and,  after  a 
little,  I  congratulated  her  on  having  so  noble  a  son- 
in-law. 


THE  RETURN  DOWN  THE  SOUND 


535 


>r  from 
jeartily 
5t  came 
ith  the 
wishes, 
d    said : 

^ed,  per- 
ell  were 
B  was  a 
in  flew 
3  captain 

;ait  upon 

place  you 

e  steamer 

give  you 

get    sick. 

The  cap- 

n  tlie  pas- 
he   room, 


1(1,  after   a 
oble  a  son- 


"Son-in-liiw!"  she  exclaimed  ;  "that  is  no  name 
for  hiin.  Never  was  a  son  more  kind  to  an  own 
mother.  There  is  no  service  he  would  not  render 
me.  That  gentleman  is  the  member  of  Parliament 
from  Victoria." 

This  was  said  with  evident  pride.  I  did  not 
blame  her.  I  could  appreciate  how  grateful  to  her 
was  every  loving  aet  from  this  man.  Next  morn- 
ing, at  five  o'clock,  I  wished  the  excellent  woniau 
a  pleasant  journey  to  the  beautiful  city  on  the  Wil- 
lamette, while  the  captain  waited  to  escort  her  to 
the  cars  close  by. 

Moral  of  the  story:  every  American  son-in-law 
should  emulate,  in  one  respect,  at  least,  this  peerless 
Victorian. 

It  was  half-past  one  o'clock  when  the  wheels  of 
the  Olympian  began  to  turn.  Slowly  she  drew  off 
from  the  \\  harf,  turned,  and  floated  down  the  nar- 
row inlet  into  tiie  magnificent  strait,  and  laid  her 
course  for  Port  Townsend.  The  sun  shone  brightly. 
There  was  a  golden  radiance  in  the  atmosphere,  but 
the  air  was  stinging  cold. 

Now,  reader,  step  to  the  windows.  We  are  more 
than  midway  across  the  strait  of  Jium  de  Fuca — 
here  forty  miles  wide,  as  we  have  elsewhere  said. 
Turn  your  eyes  to  the  main-land.  What  a  sight! 
As  far  northward  as  one  can  see — and  that  seems 
to  be  to  the  very  heart  of  the  realm  of  the  frost- 
king,  so   charged  with   cold   is   the  distant   atnios- 


„  ■ii.i 


■I 


636 


BRfTISII  COLUMBIA. 


phere — and  as  far  to  the  southward,  stand  up  the 
snow  summits,  glistening,  and  sparkling,  and  shim- 
mering, as  if  mantled  with  gems.  How  stately, 
how  regal,  yet  how  cold,  and  solemn,  and  still,  they 
look  !  It  is  ail  awe-inspiring,  unearthly,  fascinating 
scene.  One  gazes,  and  wonders,  unable  to  take  his 
eyes  off  it,  until  too  weary  to  stand  longer.  Never 
can  it  pass  from  our  memory.  We  arc  glad  it  has 
been  our  privilege  to  see  it. 

Those  summits  are  those  of  the  Cascade  Mount- 
ains, a  range  wonderful  from  beginning  to  end,  and 
at  every  season  of  the  year,  but  superlatively  so  in 
Winter.  For  awhile  Mount  Baker,  because  the 
nearer,  and  towering  in  princely  grandeur  above  all 
the  others,  fastens  our  attention ;  but  before  we 
enter  Port  Townsend,  Mount  Tacoma  comes  into 
view,  lifting  her  queenly  head  thousands  of  feet 
higher.  In  a  couple  of  hours  Mount  Baker  is  be- 
hind us.  Looking  back  upon  it,  the  magnificent 
elevation  takes  on  the  appearance  of  a  giant  lying 
on  his  back,  asleep,  with  arms  crossed  under  his 
head  for  a  pillow,  the  face  being  turned  a  little  to 
the  East.  The  limbs  are  stretched  out  full  length. 
The  toes  are  turned  up  in  the  air.  From  head  to 
feet  the  tall  figure  is  wrapped  in  a  sheet  of  spotless 
snow.  The  resemblance  is  very  striking.  Tiie  De- 
cember days  arc  very  short.  Already  has  tiie  siiu 
fallen  behind  the  Oiynipic  Hangc;  on  tiie  west  of  us. 
Not  a   cloud  flecks  the  whole   heavens.     One-half 


THE  RETURN  DOWN  THE  SOUND. 


537 


I  up  the 
id  shim- 
I  stately, 
^till,  they 
iscinating 
)  take  his 
•.     Never 
lad  it  has 


the  great  dome  is  brilliant  gold.  The  Strait  of  Juaa 
de  Fuca  is  a  vast  mass  of  wavy  gold.  Now  all  the 
cones  of  the  Cascade  Range  are  glorified.  Now 
language  fails. 


le  Mount- 
3  end,  and 
ively  so  in 
ecause   the 
r  above  all 
before   we 
comes  into 
ids  of  feet 
,aker  is  be- 
magnificent 
giant  lying 
under   his 
a  little  to 
full  length. 
)m  head  to 
of  spotless 
The  De- 
has  the  s««n 
>  west  of  ><^' 
Onc-hulf 


t 


m. 


ii! 


■  '  li 


i 


i<ni. 

^HB   SWITZBI^LAND  OP   flMEI^IGA. 


FROM  Victoria,  British  Columbia,  to  Rosebnrg, 
in  Southern  Oregon,  is  a  step  of  about  five 
hundred  miles.  Since  writing  the  last  chapter  I 
have  taken  this  step,  and  now  invite  the  reader  into 
the  "Valley  of  the  Umpqua,"  one  of  the  most  di- 
versified and  beautiful  portions  of  the  Pacific  Slope, 
and  a  famous  section  of  the  great  North-western 
State.  It  will  be  remembered  that,  in  planning  our 
journeying,  Washington  Territory  was  to  intervene 
between  Northern  and  Southern  Oregon.  We  have 
taken  the  liberty  to  introduce  the  CiUKidian  Do- 
minion also,  feeling  well  assured  our  Britisii  friends 
will  not  object.  It  is  in  further  pursuance  of  our 
arrangement  that  we  come  at  the  close  of  Winter 
into  this  most  picturesque  region  for  some  mouths' 
sojourn. 

Unless  defined,  the  term  "Southern  Oregon" 
will  be  quite  misleading.  As  used  on  this  part  of 
the  coast,  the  words  embrace  simply  the  five  coun- 
ties lying  in  the  south-western  corner  of  the  com- 
monwealth. The  charming  district  is  bounded  on 
the  east  by  the  Cascade  Mountains,  on  the  south  by 

the  Siskiyou  Range,  which  separates   it  from  Culi- 

5:58 


!. 


THE  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA. 


539 


[GA. 


losebnrg, 
oout  five 
chapter  I 
5a(ler  into 

most  cU- 
ific  Slope, 
th -western 
inning  our 
(  intervene 
We  have 

ulian  Do- 
ish  friends 
nee  of  our 

of  Winter 

ae  months' 

n  Oregon" 

lis  part  of 

five  coun- 

f  the  com- 

)oun(lecl  on 

le  south  by 

from  Cali- 


fornia, on  the  west  by  the  sea,  on  the  north  by  the 
rugged  Calapooia  Chain,  which  bars  it  from  the 
cultivated  Valley  of  the  Willamette. 

The  estimated  area  of  the  region  is  twelve  thou- 
sand square  mil^s.  Its  coast-line  extends  northward 
from  the  Calif  )rnia  border  nearly  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles,  anc  includes  one  of  the  safest  and  most 
commodious  h;  rbors  between  San  Francisco  and  the 
Strait  of  J*. an  de  Fuca.  This  admirable  haven  is 
Coos  Bay.  Its  waters  admit  ocean  ships  of  heaviest 
draft,  while  its  tributary  creeks  and  rivers  drain  a 
large  surface  of  the  surrounding  country.  The  prin- 
cipal exports  from  the  port  are  coal,  lumber,  and 
salmon,  all  abundant  in  the  vicinity. 

Southern  Oregon  is  ramified  in  all  directions  by 
lines  of  high  hills,  or  rouges  of  mountains,  with  ex- 
tremely fertile  valleys  intervening,  and  well  deserves 
to  be  called  the  "Switzerland  of  America."  The 
true  Switzerland  is  to  the  writer  a  terra  incognita ; 
but  if,  in  the  sublimity  of  its  mountain  scenery, 
the  charms  of  its  cHninte  and  the  loveliness  of  its 
gentler  landscapes,  it  surpasses  those  of  Soutjiern 
Oregon,  then  does  it  richly  merit  all  the  praise  and 
ndmiration  which  poets  and  travelers  have  lavished 
upon  it. 

Special  paragraphs  must  be  devoted  to  the 
streams.  Tumbling  creeks  and  other  affluents  of 
the  two  main  rivers  we  have  uiimed,  distribute  bless- 
ings on  every  hand.     During  the  rainy  season,  now 


,1 


a. 
I 


540 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


at  its  height,  these  are  vastly  augmented  in  speed 
and  volume.  As  our  train  came  spinning  down  the 
southern  side  of  the  (^alapooias,  yesterday,  on  the 
way  from  Portland,  a  multitude  of  noisy  tributaries 
of  the  crooked  Umpqua  foamed  and  rushed  down 
the  gorges  on  either  side.  The  rain  fell  in  no  sloth- 
ful fashion,  and  not  at  all  trivial  did  the  tiny  tor- 
rents find  the  task  of  bearing  it  away. 

Mainly,  the  Umpqua  is  a  turbulent  mountain 
stream.  Its  principal,  or  "  north  fork,"  has  its  origin 
in  the  Cascades,  or,  definitely,  in  Diamon<l  Lake. 
Flowing  westwardly  a  distance  of  eighty  miles,  it 
receives  the  South  Umpqua,  nearly  one  hundred 
miles  from  the  sea.  Thence  turning  to  the  north- 
west, it  enters  the  ocean  one  hundred  and  seventy 
miles  south  of  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  draining, 
in  its  journey,  something  like  four  thousand  square 
miles  of  territory.  In  places,  the  Umpqua  acquires 
a  great  depth,  and  where  it  flows  between  high, 
precipitous  banks,  presents  some  imposing  scenery. 
At  other  points  its  breadth  increases  to  many  feet, 
with  small  areas  of  farming  and  grazing  land  stretch- 
ing ba(!k  from  its  brink. 

But  it  is  the  Rogue  River  which  transcends  all 
other  streams  in  Southern  Oregon,  both  in  physical 
features  and  historical  dignity.  It  is  to  Jackson 
what  the  Umpqua  is  to  Douglas  County,  enriching 
and  gracing,  by  its  many  swift  branches,  three  thou- 
sand square  miles  of  lovely  country.    Four  mountain 


THE  SWITZEFiLAND  OF  AMERICA. 


541 


in  speed 
lown  the 
,  on  the 
ibutaries 
ed  down 
no  sloth- 
tiny  tor- 

mounta«n 
sits  origin 
>nd  Lake. 
r  miU's,  it 
i   liundred 
the  north- 
id  seventy 
,,  draining, 
ind  square 
ui  acquires 
veen  high, 
T  scenery, 
many  feet, 
id  stretch- 

tiscends  all 
in  physical 
to  Jackson 
r,  enriching 
three  thou- 
ir  mountain 


chains— the  Coast,  Canon,  Cascade,  and  Siskiyou — 
**  inclose  the  Rogue  River  Valley  as  with  bulwarks 
of  massive  rock."  The  total  surface  thus  fortified 
"is  broken  into  hills,  valleys,  and  mountain  ridges, 
all  the  valleys  trending  toward  the  central  depres- 
sion, and  all  the  minor  water-courses  toward  the 
Rogue  River."  On  the  Cascade  side,  the  wall  of 
rock  rises,  at  some  points,  to  nine  thousand  feet. 

Full  of  power,  the  Rogue  River  springs  into 
being  near  the  foot  of  Mount  Thlelsen,  one  of  the 
tremendoiis  snow-cones  of  the  Cascades,  at  an  eleva- 
tion six  thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  Within  the 
limits  of  Jackson  County  the  torrent  makes  a  de- 
scent of  five  thojisand  feet,  having  a  precipitous 
canon  for  its  pathway,  until  the  lofty  mountains 
dwindle  into  mere  hills  in  the  valley  proper,  which 
Is  only  about  forty  miles  long  by  twenty  miles  wide. 
Thus  both  the  Umpqna  and  the  Rogue  River  leap 
out  of  the  heart  of  the  Cascades,  **  almost  within  a 
stone's-throw  of  each  other,"  but  diverge  as  they 
flow,  until  they  eiiter  the  Pacific,  ninety  miles  asun- 
der, both  plowing  a  deep  gorge  through  the  Coast 
Range  on  their  way. 

Heavy  forests  cover  a  large  part  of  Southern 
Oregon,  and  form  one  of  its  chief  sv)urces  of  reve- 
nue. All  the  principal  mountain  sides  are  studded 
with  trees,  which  were  hoary  when  first  the  voice 
of  white  man  echoed  among  its  dark  i-aiions.     Here 

and  there  only,  on   the   streams,  a  saw-mill  sends 

46 


III 


i 


i 


'iH 


mm 


m 


TTf 


542 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


''     li 


out  its  stimulating  music,  where  many  onglit  to  be. 
Some  exact  soul  has  said,  that  "in  Douglas  County  — 


A  Scene  in  the  Umpqua  Yalley.  ' 

the  largest  of  th(!  five — tlmre  are  thirty  to\vi).shi|»3 
densely  mantled  with  i)ine,  fir,  yew,  and  cedar  trees, 
of  immense  size  and  height,  and  all  convertible  into 


Mr- 


TITE  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA. 


.'343 


the  finest  grades  of  lumber."  This  scetion  inchules 
the  western  slope  of  the  Cascailes,  itself,  crowded 
with  stately  growths  from  the  line  of  eternal  snow 
down  to  the  border  of  perpetual  green.  The  sugar- 
pine  and  the  yew  make  choice  finishing  woods,  and 
for  durability  the  latter  is  the  peer  of  the  red  cedar. 

Sections  of  the  Coast  Range  also  furnish  woods 
of  great  value.  There  the  white  cedar  flourishes, 
and  the  whole  family  of  firs.  The  bays  and  maples 
thrive  together  with  charming  effect.  In  short,  in 
this  New  Switzerland,  the  supply  of  desirable  tim- 
ber seems  to  be  inexhaustible.  The  marvel  is,  that 
the  earth  can  anywhere  nourish  such  a  countless 
brood  of  prodigious  trees. 

"  Has  Southern  Oregon  no  mineral  resources  ex- 
cept coal?"  Ah,  we  are  coming  to  that.  She  has 
as  rich  treasures  beneath  the  soil  as  above  it.  To 
coal  we  may  add  gold,  silver,  tellurium,  quicksilver, 
marble,  and  several  others.  In  all  these  counties 
gold  exists,  and  in  each  more  or  less  mining  for  the 
metal  has  been  done,  with  the  usual  results  prob- 
ably, as  to  individual  fortunes,  but  forming  a  vast 
total,  which  has  passed  into  the  arts,  or  swelled  the 
circulating  medium  of  the  country.  The  pursuit 
began  in  1851,  and  is  still  conducted  on  a  generous 
scale.  In  certain  localities  operations  have  lan- 
guished. At  soiiic  ])oints  they  have  ceased  alto- 
gether, and  even  "  the  roads  to  the  mines  have  fallen 
into  ruin." 


••  n 


.',\- 


544 


SOUTFTERX  ORKGOM. 


!   ..  i 


'M  '■ 


'ji'  \  1 1 ' 


'if! 


iiii 


II 


'  I!  : 


In  Curry  County,  noar  tho  moutli  of  Rogue 
River,  the  sands  of  the  sea-shore  have  yieUled  gold 
in  remunerative  quantities  for  over  thirty  years. 
The  distance  of  shore  enriched  is  nhout  twenty-five 
miles,  I  helieve.  Ever  since  its  discovery,  the  spot 
has  been  known  as  *'  the  gold  beach."  Old  Ocean 
sometimes  amuses  himself  by  spreading  a  covering 
of  worthless  sand  over  the  precious  deposit.  But 
the  trick  avails  but  for  a  brief  time.  Man  soon 
outwits  him  and  is  soon  harvesting  the  treasure 
again.  In  Douglas  County  there  arc  at  least  three 
centers  of  quicksilver  mining,  where  considerable 
interest  is  taken  in  the  work.  Iron,  copper,  and 
nickel  are  stored  away  in  the  mountains,  but  the 
deposits  have  been  little  developed.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  degree  of  success  has  been  reached  in  min- 
ing tellurium.  Coal-measures  of  vast  extent,  and 
almost  unmolested  as  yet,  underlie  the  surface,  in 
the  neigborhood  of  Coos  Bay,  and  elsewhere.  At 
the  bay  several  parties  are  heavily  engaged  in  min- 
ing the  fuel,  its  chief  market  being  San  Francisco. 

Southern  Oregon  needs,  and  some  day  will  pos- 
sess, a  railway  which  shall  traverse  the  region  from 
Coos  Bay  eastward  to,  and  through,  the  Cascade 
Mountains,  at  a  practicable  pass  almost  due  east 
from  Roseburg.  Thence  it  will  stretch  across  the 
wide  plains  of  South-eastern  Oregon  to  a  pt)int  con- 
necting with  one  of  the  transcontinental  lines.  This 
would   set  a  hundred  saw-mills  to  buzzing  in  these 


TlfE  SWlTZI'inr.lND  OF  AMERfCA. 


545 


milps  of  now  silent  limber,  and  start  a  thousand 
new  picks  to  ringing  in  the  oal-mines,  besides  con- 
verting Cooa  Biiy  and  its  environs  into  a  Summer 
resort  for  scores  of  people.  In  that  event,  Roseburg, 
the  little  town  in  v;hich  I  write,  would  have  the 
advantage  of  being  about  half  way  between  the  pass 
and  the  Port. 

The  Oregon  and  California  Railway,  a  most 
important  line,  now  passes  through  Southern  Ore- 
gon. Its  termini  are  Portland  and  Ashland,  at  the 
base  of  the  Siskiyou  Mountain-.  Its  length  is  three 
hundred  and  forty-two  miles.  A  controlling  spirit 
in  the  construction  of  a  part  of  this  road,  and  for 
some  time  the  president  of  its  board  of  directors, 
was  Mr.  Ben  Holladay,  a  man  famous  throughout 
the  country,  years  ngo,  on  account  of  his  frontier 
enterprises  in  the  way  of  stiige  and  pony  expresses. 
Mr.  Holladay  apj)eared  in  Oregon  in  1SG8,  and  for 
eight  years  pushed  forward  this  great  internal  im- 
provement. Ho  was  then  at  the  height  of  his 
phenomenal  career.  In  the  (Centennial  year  he  sur- 
rendered control  of  the  road,  the  line  being  then  com- 
pleted from  Portland  to  Roseburg — one  hundred  and 
ninety-seven  miles.  The  remainder,  one  hundred 
and  forty-five  miles,  reached  its  finis,  May  5,  1884, 
partly  under  the  presidency  of  Henry  A^illard,  the 
representative  of  the  German  Itondholders  of  the 
road,  and  the  successor  of  Mr.  Holladay. 

Besides   this    line,  the    Oregon    and    C^alifornia 


W  f 


-?¥--: 


fpT 


546 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


jv'l 


W.^,| 


1'  :i; 


Conipnny  oporates  a  track,  iiiiicty-.six  miles  lorip, 
connecting  Portland  with  Corvalli.s,  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Wlliiiniette  River,  thus  binding  together  a 
number  of  thriving  towns,  and  touching  the  varied 
products  of  the  rich  Valley  of  the  Willamette.  The 
former  line  bisects  Southern  Oregon  about  midway 
between  the  Coast  and  Cascade  Ranges,  becoming 
the  common  carrier  for  the  fruits  and  grains  of  its 
myriad  interlacing  valleys,  and  (conveying  th(!  trav- 
eler through  some  two  hundred  miles  of  superb 
scenery.  Seen  at  any  time  of  the  year,  the  re- 
gion is  almost  unrivaled  for  boih  grandeur  and 
beauty. 

Roseburg,  with  the  exception  of  Jacksonville,  the 
oldest  and  most  interesting  town  in  Southern  Oregon, 
is  situated  in  a  tiny  valley,  begirt  on  all  sides  with 
lofty  hills,  some  of  wliich  sweep  up  into  the  air  six 
or  seven  hundred  feet.  Overhead  appears  a  frac- 
tion of  blue  sky,  but  nowhere  is  there  an  outlook  to 
the  distant  horizon.  Although  but  the  middle  of 
February,  the  elevations  are  carpeted  with  thick, 
fresh  grass,  making  them  a  very  Eden  for  grazing 
stock.  Here  and  there  they  part  asunder,  opening 
doors  to  other  fair  valleys,  so  that  one  may  wander 
on,  and  on,  the  scenery  ever  taking  on  new  charms. 
Climb  to  the  top  of  one  of  the  highest,  as  did  the 
writer  the  other  day,  and  instead  of  a  broad  outlook 
to  distant  points,  you  will  find  the  earth  heaved  up 
into  cones  and  ridges  for  miles  around  you.     Lit- 


THE  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA.         547 


s  long, 
,Q^i  side 
rether  a 
e  varied 
,te.    The 

midway 
oecoming 
ins  of  its 

the  trav- 
,f    superb 
V,  the  re-      ■ 
luh'ur  and 

r>nviUe,  the 
»rn  Oregon, 
sides  with 
the  air  six 
ears  a  frac- 
1  outlook  to 
;  middle  of 
with  thick, 
for  grazing 
der,  opening 
may  wander 
new  charms. 
St,  as  did  the 
road  outlook 
\\  heaved  up 
u\  you.     Lit- 


erally, the  country  stands  on  end.  Through  a  rift 
in  the  hills  westward,  you  can  discern  the  blue  out- 
lines of  the  Coast  Range,  f(»rty  miles  away,  perhaps. 
At  my  feet  lay  Rosehurg.  From  my  eyrie  1  could 
lo(>k  down  upon  nearly  every  abode  in  the  place. 
My  companion  during  the  walk,  Mrs.  Colonel 
Shields,  of  Terre  Haute,  Indiana,  pointed  out  to  me 
the  homes  of  several  notable  men,  living,  or  fallen 
asleep,  whom  the  place  has  furnished  to  tlie  State 
ynd  the  country. 

Roseburg  takes  its  name  from  Aaron  Rose,  the 
original  owner  of  the  pretty  valley.  The  man  is 
still  living,  hale,  and  sin-prisingly  young  looking  for 
a  ])erson  past  threescore  and  ten.  His  residence 
oc('uj)ics  an  elevated  plateau  on  the  southern  verge 
of  the  town,  where  lie  can  keep  an  eye  upon  the 
whole  community.  Sun,  dew,  and  rain  fall  freely 
all  around  him,  and  his  neighbors  are  conveniently 
remote.  Calling  upon  him  soon  after  my  arrival  in 
the  village,  I  learned  that  in  September,  1851,  he 
first  saw  this  gem  among  the  Douglas  County  vales. 
He  had  just  accomplished  the  long  overland  journey 
from  the  splendid  Wolverine  State.  On  the  way 
he  had  traversed  dreary  plains,  forded  dangerous 
streams,  toiled  over  rugged  mountains,  and  eluded 
watchful  Indians,- -all,  that  he  might  make  for  him- 
self iind  his  family  a  home  in  a  climate  more  benef- 
icent than  that  of  storm-swept  Michijran.  The 
moment  his   foot   touched    this  hill-girded    sjK.i,  it 


'^  i. 


m , 


■h. 


I .+ 


':    i 


i:i 


\i'<. , 


I !  r  t 


1  •;  j4s 


r  Xi 


t--  • 


548 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


seemed,  of  all  places  he  had  seen,  the  best  adapted 
to  Roses.     So  here  he  piteiied  his  tent  for  life. 

The  valley  of  the  Uinpciuu  was  then  the  home 
of  the  Indian  tribe  of  that  name,  and  all  about  him 
dwelt  its  members  ;  but  he  settled  down  among  them, 

and  with  them  main- 
tained friendly  rela- 
tions until  they  were 
removed  to  their  reser- 
vation, after  the  bloody 
Indian  wars  in  this 
region.  "  The  Ump- 
quas,"  said  Mr.  Rose, 
"  were  far  from  being 
a  noble  type  of  the  In- 
dian race.  They  were 
really  in  a  state  of 
savagery,  living  upon 
roots,  seeds,  fruits,  or 
other  supplies  fur- 
nished them  by  the 
hand  of  nature.  They 
made  little  exertion 
toward  self-support." 
Accepting  the  offer  of  Congress,  Mr.  Rose  "took 
up  a  claim"  on  this  site,  erected  a  shelter  for  his 
family  and  turned  his  attention  to  farming  with  all 
the  thornnglmoss  of  the  Michigan  husbandman. 
Now,  so  prolific  is  the  soil   of  Southern   Oregon 


Nut  Store-Houaes  of  the  Indiana, 


» 


THE  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA. 


54!) 


lapted 

B. 

home 
it  him 
rthem, 
main- 
'    rela- 
y  were 
ir  reser- 
!  bloody 
in    this 
I    Um|>- 
r.  Rose, 
m  being 
f  the  In- 
ley  were 
state  of 
ng    upon 
nits,  or 
fur- 
by    the 
e.    They 
exertion 
support." 
ise  "  took 
r  for  his 
witii  all 
)andman.- 
Oregon 


es 


that  mere  half-efforts  at  tillage  secure  lavish  returns 
to  the  farmer.  And  wliat  is  the  result?  Simply 
tliis:  Unles"  i  man  labors  intelligently,  and  from 
principle,  he  soon  lapses  into  slolhfulness,  an<l  in 
time,  like  the  Indian,  actually  becomes  incapacitiited 
for  work.  Toil  of  a  certain  amount  is  a  potent  fac- 
tor in  civilizing  the  human  race,  and  that  amount 
is  by  no  means  honu-opathic.  More  could  hardly 
have  been  expected  of  the  Imlian  tribes  of  this  re- 
gion than  that  they  should  scorn  systematic  labor. 
Given:  Communities  of  white  men,  settled  u|M>n 
land  highly  productive,  like  that  of  the  Um|xjua 
and  Rogue  River  Valleys,  its  streams  filled  with 
fish,  and  its  forests  with  game ;  then  isolate  them, 
for  long  years,  from  railways,  and  telegraphs,  and 
competing  markets  ;  afford  them  but  slight  contact 
with  a  stirring  world  outside ;  and,  finally,  let  the 
climate  be  continually  hospitable — and  how  long 
would  such  communities  drive  and  thrive?  N<»th- 
ing  but  the  being  thoroughly  imbued  with  a  spirit 
of  obedience  to  the  Almighty  One  could  preserve 
them  in  intelligence,  in  habits  of  thrift,  and  indus- 
try. "Nature's  Iwt^ty  and  our  gentle  Winters," 
said  Mr.  Rose,  "  have  made  the  farmers  of  this  sec- 
tion indolent,  a.s  a  class.  Those  in  the  Willamette 
Valley  are  far  ahead  of  us." 

The  meteorological  conditions  of  Southern  Ore- 
gon ought  to  satisfy  the  most  inveterate  grumbler 

about   the   weather.     The  seasons  vary,  indeed,  in 

47 


550 


FiOUTUEUN  OREGON. 


Mi  ^  f ! 


M  ■'. 


i- 


r 


m 


the  aninnnt  of  cold,  fonr,  snow,  rain-fall,  snnshinc, 
and  nnmbor  of  clondy  days.  Less  rain  falls  in  the 
UnijMiua,  than  in  the  AVMllamettc  Valley;  less  than 
in  the  Pnixot  Sound  Basin,  nsnallv.  Bnt  there  are 
showers  and  all-day  rains,  even,  from  first  of 
Dcneniher  to  last  of  Mareh,  and  sometinu's  later. 

Three  times  in  tliirly-fonr  years  have  snow-falls 
remained  on  the  ground  ten  or  twelve  days.  The 
Winter  of  j?85,  one  of  the  eoldest  know,  iis  re  in 
many  years,  furnished  one  of  these  exeeptions.  Up 
to  date — February  19th — the  present  season,  not  a 
flake  has  fluttered  down,  and  wild  flowers  are  hloom- 
\ufjr  on  the  hills.  Animals,  ( xcept  those  intended 
i\>\-  domestie  uses,  are  never  sheltered,  and  rarely 
fed.  (larden  produets  may  he  left  in  the  earth  the 
M'inter  through,  the  ground  never  freezing  to  any 
noiicoahle  depth.  Often  the  farmer  digs  his  veg- 
elid)les  as  they  are  wanted  for  the  table. 

The  benignity  of  the  cilimate  is  evinced,  also,  in 
the  elass  of  dwellings  alniost  universally  ereeted, 
exeept  for  th((  wealthier  families.  They  are  frame 
structures,  "sided  up"  in  the  usual  manner,  and 
inside  carefully  lined  with  a  thickness  of  rough 
boards;  over  the  boards  is  tacked  smoothly  an  un- 
bleached muslin,  and  upcm  this  is  hung  a  layer  of 
wall-paper,  expensive,  or  of  lierwise,  aeiHirding  to  the 
bank  aeeonnt  of  the  owner.  This  give.s  them  the 
name  of"  paper-houses,"  a  term  whii^li  sounds  rather 

Walls 


lOasI 


chilling  to  an  rvaslern  persim  in  midwinter 


THE  SWITZERLAND  OF  AMERICA. 


551 


in  the 

ss  than 

lorc  aro. 

ftrst    of 

,ator. 
,ow-faUs 

.s.     The 
,  \i(  re  in 
l)U^.      Up 
on,  not  ft 
re  \)loom- 

xxu\   rarely 
R  earth  the 
inj?  to  any 
rs  his  veg- 

.(■a,  also,  in 
1\W   erected, 
fv  iire  frame 
lunner,  an^ 
L  of   rough 
lothly  an  un- 
Ijr  a  layc''  "^ 
^.nhng  to  t\»e 
,.,.s  tlu>m  the 
M.iuulH  ratlu-r 
lintcr.     Walls 


and  ceilings  alike  are  so  constructed;  thus  lathing 
and  plaster  aro  entirely  dispensed  with.  P^'roquently 
blocks  of  timber  are  the  only  foundation  for  the 
edifice.  These  are  concealed,  and  greater  warmth 
secured,  by  extending  the  siding  to  the  ground. 
"Are  such  dwellings  comfortable  in  the  rainy  sea- 
son?" Not  unless  brisk  fires  are  burning  in  the 
living  rooms.  Although  not  in  the  slightest  danger 
of  freezing,  one  feels  the  raw,  damp  air  at  his  very 
bones. 

"What  induced  you  to  lay  out  a  town  here?" 
I  asked  of  Mr.  Rose. 

"In  the  first  place,"  ho  replied,  "I  saw  that  it 
was  a  natural  center  for  important  wagon  and  rail 
roads.  It  was  a  chief  point  on  the  old  through 
stage-route  from  Fort  Vancouver  to  California,  and 
also  a  notable  rendezvous  on  a  lengthy  pack-trail 
of  that  day.  Packers  and  traders  passed  here  con- 
stantly. Then,  Deer  Creek  and  the  Umpqua  River 
offered  splendid  water-power  for  manufactures.  It 
was  the  proper  starting-point  for  a  railroad  to  Coos 
Bay,  sixty  miles  distant,  and  for  a  fine  wagon-road 
to  that  marvel  of  the  Cascades,  Croter  Lake,  and  to 
the  Klamath  Lakes  beyond.  Finally,  the  country 
around  was  exceptionally  fertile,  and  the  location 
itself  was  very  beaut i fid." 

The  man's  reasons  were  sufPioiont,  and  subsequent 
events  indorsed  his  foresight.  Roseburg  was  soon 
made  the  county  seat.     In  1855  the  great  Indian 


552 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


war  broke  out  in  Southern  Oregon,  and  the  place 
became  a  base  of  supplies  for  the  troops  sent  to 
quell  the  emcute.  Later  came  the  Oregon  and  Cali- 
fornia Railway,  by  far  the  most  important  factor  in 
the  development  of  the  town.  An  excellent  wagon- 
road  has  been  constructed  to  Coos  Bay.  The  rail- 
road thither  is  sure  to  come.  The  little  village  has 
a  model  system  of  public  schools,  a  faithful  ministry 
in  its  Churches,  and  "a  strong  Lodge  of  Good  Tem- 
plars, among  whom,  just  now,  temperance  interest 
is  fanned  to  a  white  heat. 


Li 


ie  place 
sent  to 
iiul  Cali- 
factor  in 
;t  wagon- 
Xy^e  rail- 
iUage  has 
I  ministry 
iood  Tem- 
36  interest 


I<IV. 

^AGI^SONYILLB,  AND  GOLD-0)lMING   IN 
SOUTHBI^N    Ol^BGON. 


"  OOUTFIERN  Oregon  "  contains  three  prominent 
O  civil  centers.  These  arc  Roseburp^,  just  nuin- 
tioned,  Jacksonville,  the  oldest  and,  historically, 
the  most  important  town  in  the  five  counties,  and 
Ashland,  at  the  base  of  the  Siskiyou  Mountains, 
twelve  miles  north  of  the  California  line.  As  has 
already  been  remarked,  the  Oregon  and  California 
Railway  unites  the  first  and  last  of  these  communi- 
ties. But  Jacksonville  lies  off  the  thoroughfare, 
five  miles  to  the  west.  Its  railway  station  is  the 
active,  growing  little  village  of  Mcdford.  Convey- 
ance to  Jacksonville  from  this  point  is  by  stage, 
over  a  road  decorated  in  Spring-time  with  frequent 
capa('ious  depression.*'  filled  with  water,  and  usually 
called  mud-holes.  The  writer,  with  three  other 
passengers,  made  the  distance,  one  cold  starlight 
morning  in  March,  and  distinctly  remembers  every 
rod  of  the  comfortable  way.  They  were  the  longest 
five  miles  I  ever  traversed. 

Our  party  set  out  at  four  o'«'lock.  80  arctic  was 
the  air,  that  to  0,  heavy  newuuirket,  as  an  outer  gar- 
ment,   I    soon   added    a    fur-lined   cloak,  and  still 

553 


I: 


554 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


li-  i 


\l 


suffered  from  the  rigor.  The  driver,  an  obliging 
young  man,  full  of  vitality,  .seemed  to  he  utterly 
unaware  of  the  sudden  descent  of  the  vehiele  into 
the  pits.  But  its  occupants,  despite  their  resolute 
bracing  of  themselves,  and  their  clinging  to  the 
straps,  were  all  frequently  in  the  center  of  the 
coach  at  tho  same  time.  We  arrived  in  the  place 
just  at  break  of  day,  and  at  the  hotel  happily  found 
the  landlord,  a  shrewd  Teuton,  on  the  watt  h  for  us, 
with  a  glowing  fire  throwing  out  comforf  from  an 
old-fashioned  fire-place  in  the  office.  As  was  quite 
sure  to  be  the  case,  the  day  proved  to  be  lovely, 
and  I  passed  its  hours  in  walks  and  talks  about  the 
interesting  locality,  at  sunset  retracing  my  way  to 
Medford. 

Like  Rosoburg,  Jacksonville  is  encircled  by 
stately  hills.  Shapely  buttes  pierr'  the  air  in  all 
directions.  In  the  East,  fully  fifty  miles  away, 
appears  Mount  Pitt,  a  splendid  snow-cone  of  the 
Cascade  Range,  apparently  little  beyond  the  «Hit- 
skirts  of  the  village.  Far  to  the  north,  peering 
over  the  shoulder  of  a  massive  brown  mountain,  is 
discernible  a  snow  point  of  exquisite  beauty.  Thu* 
is  "  Diamond  Peak,"  one  hundred  and  forty  miles 
distant.  Both  these  are  kingly  summits,  from  which 
the  robe  of  white  is  never  laid  aside.  For  ages  it 
has  been  worn.     It  will  be  for  ages  still. 

Jacksonville  ow»s  its  origin  to  gold  discovery, 
as  does  miniv  another  town  of  the  coast.     The  metal 


JACKSUW'JLLK,  A.\D  <;<)IJtMi.\I\'H. 


.liging 
iitterly 
le  into 
esolute 
to  the 
of   the 
e  place 
V  foil  ml 
I  for  us, 
from  au 
as  quite 
lovely, 
bout  the 
;  wav  to 

rcled    by 
\r  iu  all 
es  away, 
.  of  the 
the   ••ut- 
pi'onni; 
untain^  m 
ty.    TH« 
rty   mih'S 
ml  \vhi<'h 
or  :i'jt>  it 

(liscovory, 
The  melal 


was  first  found  on  its  present  site,  in  ISol,  l»y  par- 
ties passinj;  from  Califurnia  ((»  the  Willunictte  V^al- 
ley.  "At  that  ilate  there  was  not  a  white  man  living 
iu  the  district  now  known  as  Southern  Oregon." 
No  sooner,  however,  was  tlie  discovery  lierahied 
abroad,  than  in  (loeUed  miners  in  large  niimbers, 
from  California  and  d.-ewhere ;  and  in  an  incredibly 
short  time,  there  were  scattered  among  its  hills  and 
gnlehes  between  six  and  seven  tiionsand  men,  all 
intently  oe<;npie«l  in  prospecting  for  the  precious 
mineral. 

From  time  to  time,  ono  miner  after  another 
broiigiit  his  family  to  the  s(-ene,  and  put  up  a  rouixh 
frame  tent  for  their  shelter.  Presently,  other  tem- 
porary structures  followed,  for  the  protection  of 
stores  and  supplies.  Thus  Ja(!ksouville  sprang  into 
being.  In  most  instances  its  settlers  were  a  fearless, 
energetic  class  <»f  peoph',  possessing  marked  charac- 
teristics. These  .same  traits  distinguish  them  to-«luy, 
as  they  do  indcd  many  of  the  citizens  of  Southern 
Oregon,  These  pers(ms,  as  the  light-plaeer  mincH 
declined,  finding  themselves  in  a  (utuntry  whose 
soil  was  as  marvehuisly  ri<^h  in  produ<"tive  tpialities 
as  were  its  hills  and  gulches  in  gohl,  gradually  set- 
tled down  to  other  pursuits,  and  '  i  nlt(>d  its 
present  stable  condition  of  so(uety.  JacUsonvillu 
contains  less  than  two  iliousaiid  inlubitints.  Tt  is 
the  legal  center  of  Jackson  (Jonnty,  and  is  still  the 
chief  gold-mining  p«tint  in  Southern  Orr'gon. 


556 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


'■;  ,4 


4  > 


As  has  been  remarked,  that  wonderful  stream, 
the  Rogue  River,  is  the  main  water-course  of  the 
county.  From  the  hills  everywhere  tributaries 
flow  into  it.  Much  of  the  soil  of  the  region,  like 
that  of  a  large  portion  of  the  State,  is  a  rich,  black 
alluvium,  formed  by  the  admixture  of  disintegrated 
rock  and  vegetable  mold,  for  centuries  past.  The 
slopes  of  the  hills  and  lower  mountains,  though  of  a 
gravelly  ciiaracter,  contain  almost  every  element  of 
fertility.  There  are  also  extensive  tracts  where 
deep  deposits  of  warm  loam  overlie  a  bed  of  thick 
clay.  The  county  embraces  many  thousand  acres 
of  these  varieties  of  valuable  land,  and  as  a  whole 
is  considered  unrivaled  for  fruit-growing  and  agri- 
cultural purposes.  Crops  are  a  certainty,  annually. 
"The  cereals  have  not  missed  a  harvest  in  thirty- 
five  years,"  said  a  gentleman,  in  reply  to  my  ques- 
tions, who  had  resided  in  the  county  that  length 
of  time. 

But  it  is  not  of  horticulture,  nor  of  agriculture, 
important  as  those  topics  are,  that  I  wish  to  speak 
in  connection  with  Jacksonville,  since  much  space 
has  already  been  given  to  those  interests  as  pertain- 
ing to  Oregon,  but  of  gold-culture,  if  I  may  be 
allowed  the  terra. 

Viewed  in  any  light,  the  subject  of  gold-mining 
is  interesting.  For  the  facts  I  have  gained  of  the 
industry,  as  conducted  both  in  Oregon  and  Califor- 
nia, I  arn  greatly  indebted  to  a  citizen  of  Jackson- 


Al 


JACKSONVILLE,  AND  GOLD-MININO.        557 


stream, 
of  the 
jutaries 
on,  lil<e 


n,  black 


tegrated 
.t.  The 
ugh  of  a 
Miient  of 
ts  where 

of  thick 
ind  acres 
s  a  whole 
and  agri- 

annnally. 

in  thirty- 

my  ques- 
lat  length 

irriculture, 

\\  to  speak 

Quch  space 

as  pertain- 

I  may  be 

rold-mJning 
iiH'd  of  the 
ukI  Califor- 
of  Jackson- 


ville, who  has  been  famih'ar  with  every  phase  of 
mining  from  boyhood,  and  to  a  gentleman  of  Ash- 
land, possessing  an  extensive  practical  mining  ex- 
perience. I  here  take  pleasure  in  expressing  my 
obligations  to  both  for  aid  in  preparing  this  chapter. 

That  portion  of  Southern  Oregon,  known  as  the 
mineral  belt,  is  from  sixty  to  seventy  miles  long, 
and  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  miles  wide.  Its  de- 
posits are  extremely  rich  and  varied,  embracing 
gold,  silver,  lead,  iron,  copper,  iridium,  platinum, 
cinnabar,  and  other  metals  of  less  value.  More  dis- 
coveries of  gold  were  made  in  IH85  than  for  some 
years  preceding,  and  most  of  tliem  are  supposed  to 
be  valuable. 

To  even  approximate  the  amount  of  gold  taken 
from  the  mines  of  Southern  Oregon,  between  the 
years  1851  and  1885,  is  an  impossibility,  for  the 
precious  metal  was  carried  out  of  the  region  by 
every  conceivable  mode — on  mules,  on  stages,  on 
pack-trains,  by  individuals,  and  by  express  com- 
panies, in  large  quantities.  Nothing  like  an  accu- 
rate record  of  the  sum  was  attempted,  nor  could  be, 
for  the  large  force  of  men  at  work  were  not  only 
scattered  over  a  large  extent  of  country,  but  con- 
tinually surged  from  point  to  point,  as  fabulous,  new 
discoveries  were  reported,  or  as  visions  of  sudden 
fortune  rose  up  before  their  minds.  However,  the 
amount  was  by  every  one  conceded  to  be  very  great. 
This  was  while   the  system   of  liglit  placer-mining 


'  ! 


S'  J 


II ' 


fh  1 


f-  i 


I 


■t," 


i  ■ 


SJ*ffl^:i 


ll 


I 
il  I 


568 


SOUTHERN  0RIT,0N. 


])r('vaih'il,  and  iturliKlcd  the  time  down  to  LS*)'). 
'J'lu'n  tiir  ^irat  body  of  tlir  iiiiniii^  popidiitioii 
driilcd  to  more  tempting  gold-Held^,  leaving  tlio.se 
more  permanently  settled,  possessors  of  the  groniul. 
For  the  next  ten  years  the  stea<ly  annual  produetion 
is  estimated  to  have  been  at  least  half  a  million  of 
dollars.  Fr(»m  that  dat»!  to  l.SHo,  another  perioil 
of  ten  years,  the  yield  per  annum  declined  to  not 
more  than  one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  This  de- 
crease was  attributable  to  the  light  yearly  rain-liills, 
upon  the  pU'utifulness  of  which  the  su(H!ess  of  phicer- 
mining  so  much  depends.  The  Winter  of  IHST) 
turned  the  tide  again,  the  supply  of  water  being 
abundant,  and  the  amount  mined  footed  up  to  about 
five  hundred  thousand  dollars. 

At  this  ju.icture  (piart/.-mining,  encouraged  by 
the  aid  of  greatly  improved  machinery,  began  to 
be  put  to  a  pra(!tical  test  in  Southern  Oregon,  and 
promised  to  become  one  of  the  most  valuable  indus- 
tries of  the  region,  since  the  entire  mineral  belt  is 
almost  one  continuous  and  compact  net-work  of 
(|uartz -leads,  a  large  percentage  of  which  are  known 
to  carry  suflicient  gold  to  pay  for  crushing.  Early 
that  year  several  (piartz  mills  were  in  operation  in 
the  district,  one  of  them  at  Jacksonville,  where  the 
writer  saw  it  at  work,  and  really  accomplishing 
wonders  in  the  way  of  reilucing  the  ore  to  fine  dust. 
This  mill,  known  among  mining  men  as  the  "Jones's 
Combined  Crushel'  and  Concentrator,"  included  all 


JACKSONVILLE,  ASlt  HOLD  MlMSd.        WA 


tuiatioii 
ig  tlio.sc 
1. 


)ihioti«)i» 
illion  ul' 

(1   to  »»»>t 

of  i)lu(!t'r- 
„f    IHSr) 

liter  l)ii"J? 
1)  t«)  about 

urag<'<l  by 
,  bigim    to 
cjron,  si»ul 
hU'  iiulus- 
lul  belt  is 
-woik    of 
ail!  known 
ug.     F-»>-ly 
K'ralioM  ill 
where  the 
omplisbing 
t(»  tine  dust. 
Ije'Monos's 
incUitkil  all 


the  late  improveinent.s,  and  exeited  universal  in- 
terest. Tin;  rhiil"  inventor,  Mr.  \\.  \V.  tlimes,  of 
Cincinnati,  Ohio,  was  on  tlie  ground  superintending 
its  working.  The  important  principh-  it  involved 
wa.s  the  handling  the  ore  with  the  hast  possible 
hibor,  and  the  bringing  every  |)arti(rle  of  the  pulp 
in  eontact  with  the  ([uicksilver,  in  onler  that  not  a 
grain  of  the  gold  be  lost.  Another  matter  of  im- 
])ortance  wa.s  the  small  amount  of  power  rctpiired 
to  run  the  very  complex  and  beautiful  piiee  of 
mechani.sm. 

Many  years  ago  some  of  tin?  (puirt/  hedges  in 
Southern  Oregon  were  prospected  with  crude  ma- 
chinery. But  the  trials  were  made  when  the  gold 
excitement  was  at  its  height ;  when,  to  secure  le.ss 
than  half  an  ounce  of  the  mineral  daily,  was  con- 
sidered to  be  putting  forth  eflbrts  unworthy  a  man's 
time  or  tliought.  Miners  looked  with  contempt 
upon  a  quartz-lead  in  which  they  could  not  readily 
discern  an  abundance  of  "  face-gold."  lint  with 
the  marked  imj)rovcments  in  machinery,  and  the 
increa.sed  practical  knowledge  of  (piartz-mining,  a 
new  era  in  the  pursuit,  one  rivaling  all  the  past  in 
value,  seems  to  have  been  inaugurated  in  Southern 
Oregon.  A  fault  of  the  mills  with  which  these 
oarlier  efforts  were  made,  and,  indeed,  all  efforts 
viiitil  recently,  was  that  they  failed  to  jjcrfectly 
separate  the  gold  from  the  baser  minerals  with 
which  it  is  associated  in  the  ledges.      In  this  respect 


m 


%k.  I 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


II 21    1112.5 


IIIIM  i^ 

^        2.0 


34  0 


1.8 


1.25 

1.4 

1.6 

^ 6"   — 

► 

Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEiT  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  MS80 

(716)  872-4503 


A-' 


<? 


X^^     €i. 


(/a 


x 

% 

•■5 


i 


\a.i\ 


,1  i  J        1  I 


560 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


the  mill  the  writer  visited  appeared  to  be  a  complete 
success,  while  its  execution  in  crushing  the  ore  was 
something  marvelous.  Indeed,  a  modern  quartz- 
mill  in  operation  is  an  object  well  worthy  a  long 
ride  in  the  cold  and  through  deep  mud  to  see.  And 
should  the  visitor  happen  to  be  presented  with  a 
small  parcel  of  the  liberated  gold,  ihe  sight  is  all 
the  more  interesting. 

Hydraulic  mining,  also,  is  at  present  claiming 
much  attention  in  Southern  Oregon.  The  work  is 
proceeding  in  several  localities,  giving  employment 
to  large  numbers  of  men.  Possibly  the  reader  has 
not  witnessed  this  forcible  method  of  taking  gold 
from  the  earth.  If  not,  the  description  of  the  pro- 
cess, which  follows  the  few  preliminary  paragraphs 
here  appended,  may  be  of  some  interest. 

It  may  be  stated,  in  a  general  way,  that  all  min- 
ing countries  are,  for  the  greater  part,  mountainous, 
and  also  that  the  presence,  here  and  there,  of  scoria, 
trap,  basalt,  pumice,  and  lava,  strongly  indicates,  if 
it  dors  not  conclusively  prove,  that,  at  some  time  in 
the  past,  intense  volcanic  action  has  taken  place,  by 
which  the  mountains  were  heaved  up  and  the  deep 
canons  among  them  were  formed.  In  countries  of 
this  character,  where  the  surface  has  undergone 
striking  changes,  new  water-courses  have  made  their 
appearance,  plowing  their  way  between  the  mount- 
ains and  through  the  valleys.  At  the  same  time 
the  ancient,  or   "dead   river   channels"  still    exist, 


1 


f 

V 


;omplete 
ore  was 
quartz- 
'  a  long 
e.  And 
1  with  a 
ht  is  all 

claiming 
work  is 
ployment 
sader  has 
ing  gold 
the  pro- 
iragraphs 

;  all  min- 

intainoiis, 
o^  scoria, 
licates,  if 
ie  time  in 
place,  by 
the  deep 
antries  of 
indergone 
nade  their 
le  mount' 
same  time 
;till    exist, 


JACKSONVILLE,  AND  GOLD-MINING.        561 

having  their  course  through  the  elevations  without 
any  reference  to  the  present  streams.  "Indeed," 
says  Mr.  Garfield,  the  Ashland  authority  referred 
to,  "  they  generally  cut  existing  rivers  at  right 
angles,  and,  as  a  rule,  are  situated  far  above  them, 
iu  some  instances,  thousands  of  feet."  Most  of 
these  dead  streams  as  well  as  the  living  water- 
courses of  Southern  Oregon  contain  gold.  As  the 
ancient  rivers  obtained  their  treasure  from  the  land 
through  which  they  passed,  so  do  the  modern  cur- 
rents get  their  gold  by  cross-cutting  these  old-time 
beds.  And  they  are  found  to  be  rich  in  the  pre- 
cious metals  just  in  proportion  to  the  wealth  of  the 
passages  they  have  intersected. 

Into  these  dead  water-ways  the  prospector  for 
gold  cuts  his  way  with  pick  and  shovel,  and  with 
a  pan  "prospects  the  dirt"  as  he  proceeds,  until  sat- 
isfied of  its  richness.  He  frequently  finds  these 
channels  and  gravel-deposits  far  up  on  the  sides  of 
mountains,  or  on  elevated  benches  of  land.  They 
often  contain  gold  from  the  top  down,  and  in  con- 
stantly increasing  amount  until  the  bed-rock  is 
reached,  and  there  the  best  reward  is  always  ex- 
pected. These  strata  vary  in  depth  from  ten  to  one 
hundred  feet,  and  many  of  them  are  much  deeper. 

It  was  expressly  to  secure  the  treasure  buried 
iu  these  dead  river-beds  and  gravel-bars,  that  the 
system  of  hydraulic-mining  was  invented.  In  work- 
ing them  a  large  amount  of  earth  must  necessarily 


(■ 


i  Ml     i 


Ill,  r 


h"- 


h  ^ 


562 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


m 


ci 


I'M- 


k      i 


be  removed,  considerable  mountains  being  sometimes 
waslied  away.  To  do  this  profitably,  by  other  than 
the  most  approved  hydraulic  apparatus,  would  be 
impossible. 

Suppose,  now,  it  is  desired  to  work  an  ancient 
\vater-course  fifty  or  one  hundred  feet  above  some 
river  of  to-day,  the  instrument  by  which  it  must 
be  done  is  that  powerful  contrivance,  known  among 
mining  men  as  the  "giant,"  or  hydraulic.  Two 
things  now  become  indispensably  necessary:  these 
are,  an  ample  supply  of  water  and  sufficient  pressure. 
How  does  he  get  them?  Sometimes  the  water  can 
be  brought  from  the  stream  near  which  the  pros- 
pector proposes  to  operate.  In  that  case  he  ascends 
the  stream  such  a  distance,  as,  taking  into  account 
the  fall  of  the  water  and  the  route  it  must  traverse, 
will  give  him  the  required  pressure.  From  that 
point  he  constructs  a  ditch  of  the  necessary  capacity 
along  the  mountain  side  to  opposite  the  dead  chan- 
nel, or  gravel-deposit.  There  he  erects  a  water- 
tight reservoir,  called  a  bulk-head,  to  receive  the 
water  from  the  ditch.  In  some  instances  t^e  fluid 
must  be  conveyed  from  a  river  thirty  or  fifty  miles 
distant. 

Into  the  bulk-head  the  miner  now  inserts  and 
securely  fastens  a  large  sheet-iron  pipe,  about  two 
feet  in  diameter,  which  gradually  tapers  to  a  diam- 
eter of  fifteen  inches,  and  which  is  of  a  length  suffi- 
cient to  bring  the  water  from  the  bulkhead  down 


metitnes 
her  than 
iTould  be 

1  ancient 
ove  some 

it  must 
vn  among 
lie.  Two 
.ry :  these 
t  pressure, 
water  can 

the  pros- 
he  ascends 
to  account 
st  traverse, 
From  that 
ry  capacity 
dead  chan- 
,8  a  water- 
receive   the 
3s  t^e  fluid 
V  fifty  miles 

inserts  and 

,  about  two 

3  to  a  diain- 

lengtli  suffi- 

Idiead  down 


i 


JACKSONVILLE,  AND  GOLD-MINING.       563 

the  mountain-side  to  the  giant,  by  which  it  is 
thrown  againi-t  the  gravcl-bfink  with  the  speed 
and  force   of  a  cannon-ball,  but  with  the  decided 


Conveying  Water  for  Mining. 

advantage  that  the  blow  is  constant,  and,  therefore, 
resistless. 

It  is  now  apropos  to  describe  the  giant,  the  most 
powerful  of  all  known  mining  inventions,  and  yet  a 
surprisingly  simple  device.  It  consists  of  a  heavy 
sheet-iron  pipe,  about  ten  feet  in  length,  strongly 
banded,  and  tapering  gradually  from  its  coupling 
with  the  pipe  bringing  the  water  from  the  bulkhead 
to  the  nozzle.     The  size  of  the  nozzle  depends  upon 


1 

:1, 

1 

,  i. 

: 

'    ■ 


564 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


t .:  < 


i  . 


i!  '''n 


the  amount  of  the  fluid  controlled  and  the  height 
of  the  ditch  above  the  mine ;  for  the  greater  the 
fall  of  the  water,  the  greater  is  its  power  to  force 
a  given  quantity  through  a  nozzle  of  a  given  size. 
The  most  effective  size,  probably,  is  one  six  inches 
in  diameter.  Sometimes  there  is  attached  to  the 
nozzle  an  ingenious  little  contrivance,  termed  a 
"deflector."  Its  purpose  is  to  direct  the  flow  of 
the  water  without  moving  the  hydraulic.  But  some 
miners  consider  this  an  unsafe  appliance,  because  it 
turns  the  stream  at  so  short  an  angle  that  the  in- 
strument is  liable  to  get  the  advantage  of  the  piper, 
unless  constantly  on  his  guard.  In  that  case  he  may 
get  seriously  hurt. 

The  coupling  is  an  important  part  of  the  hy- 
draulic. It  consists  of  a  combined  oval  and  circular 
"knuckle,"  or  joint,  having  a  perfect  pivotal  and 
circular  center,  so  .adjusted  as  not  to  leak,  and  yet 
so  complete  in  its  action  as  to  be  entirely  under 
control  of  the  piper,  who  may  elevate,  depress,  or 
turn  it  at  will. 

The  stream  from  the  giant  is  applied  at  the  base 
of  the  gravel-bank,  next  the  bed-rock,  thus  under- 
mining it  and  causing  it  to  fall  by  its  own  weight. 
At  the  same  time  the  fluid  is  kept  flowing  upon 
the  top  of  the  bank,  whence  it  percolates  downward, 
softening  and  adding*  to  the  weight  of  the  mass, 
until,  finally,  down  it  falls,  "thousands  of  tons  in 
amount,  and  attended  with  a  roar  like  that  of  some 


!     * 


height 
ter  the 
o  force 
en  size. 
:  inches 

to  the 
rrned    a 

flow  of 
lut  some 
jcause  it 
;  the  in- 
he  piper, 
e  he  may 

'  the  hy- 
d  circular 
votal  and 
c,  and  yet 
rely  under 
lepress,  or 

at  the  base 
hus  under- 
jvn  weight, 
wing  upon 
downward, 
f  the  mass, 
of  tons  in 
rat  of  some 


JACKSONVILLE,  AND  GOLD-MINING.        566 

demon  issuing  from  the  realm  of  Pluto,"  and  dash- 
ing a  mighty  mass  of  rocks,  earth,  and  trees  at  the 
feet  of  the  piper,  whose  life  is  thus  often  placed  in 
great  jeopardy,  and  is,  perhaps,  saved  by  instant 
flight. 

The  matter  thus  laid  low  is  now  ready  for  the 
ax,  sledge  and  nozzle.  Well-aimed  blows  from  the 
two  former  speedily  dislodge  the  stones  and  trees, 
while  the  stream  of  water  quickly  reduces  and  bears 
away,  in  a  conduit  prepared  for  the  purpose,  the 
mingled  earth,  sand,  gravel,  and  their  attendant 
wealth  of  gold.  This  conduit  is  styled  a  "  tail- 
race,"  and  is  either  cut  in  the  polid  rock,  or  is  con- 
structed of  heavy  timber.  In  the  latter  case  it  is 
called  a  flume.  In  breadth  it  may  vary  from  two 
to  eight  feet,  but  in  depth  must  be  ample  to  allow 
the  coarse  dthris  to  float  away.  If^made  of  timber, 
there  are  fastened  crosswise  in  the  bottom  several 
series  of  iron  bars,  termed  "rifiles."  Their  purpose 
is  to  catch  the  gold,  which  otherwise  would  be 
borne  away  by  the  water  kept  pouring  through  the 
race.  If  the  race  be  cut  in  the  solid  rock,  the 
natural  unevenness  of  the  stone  secures  the  same 
result  as  the  riffles. 

Moreover,  at  convenient  points  along  the  canal, 
"  under-currents "  are  constructed,  to  facilitate  the 
securing  the  gold.  These  are  located  wherever  the 
descent  will  admit   their  introduction   beneath  the 

flume.     An  aperture  is  cut  in  the  flume,  above  the 

48 


^1 

I.  If! 


b 


i 


'■*)'  t 


ii^' 


I 


i  i  ■: 


566 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


head  of  the  under-current,  which  is  spanned  by 
strong  iron  bars.  Over  these  bars  the  swift 
upper-current  readily  carries  the  coarser  matter, 
while  the  finer  material,  with  any  gold  that  may 
have  escaped  the  riffles,  drops  into  the  secondary 
races.  By  this  means  but  a  slight  percentage  of 
the  mineral  eludes  the  watchful  miner.  Of  course 
great  skill  is  needful  in  manipulating  the  water. 
The  baser  substances  must  not  be  carried  off  too 
hastily  to  allow  the  gold  ample  time  to  settle  to  the 
bottom  of  the  conduit.  This  it  is  not  tardy  in  doing. 
Their  own  weight  soon  causes  the  particles  to  sink, 
unless  too  small  to  resist  the  force  of  the  liquid. 

In  many  instances  the  mineral  is  not  in  "  nug- 
gets," however  small,  but  in  the  form  of  precious 
sand.  In  such  cases  quicksilver  comes  to  the  rescue, 
as  it  does  in  the  quartz-mill.  To  this  end  a  quan- 
tity of  the  cinnabar  is  placed  in  a  buckskin  bag  and 
sifted  to  and  fro  in  the  flume.  The  metal  breaks 
through  the  bag  in  tiny  globules,  drops  down  among 
the  worthless  gravel  and  sand,  seeks  out  the  gold, 
forme  an  amalgam  with  it,  holds  it  securely  until 
"cleaning-up  time,"  when  the  particles  of  jmarried 
metal  are  collected,  and  divorced,  by  a  process  we 
have  not  space  to  describe,  and  the  free  gold  enters 
the  treasure-box  of  the  prospector. 

Probably,  after  the  giant  has  been  at  work  from 
six  weeks  to  six  months,  throwing;  against  the  bank 
of  gravel   a  powerful  stream  of  one  thousand  or 


"T?" 


led  by 
!    swift 
matter, 
lat  may 
condary 
tage  of 
f  course 
e  water. 
I  off  too 
le  to  the 
in  doing. 

to  sink, 
quid, 
in  "  nug- 

precious 
le  rescue, 
I  a  quan- 
1  bag  and 
al  breaks 
vn  among 

the  gold, 
irely  until 
f  jnarried 
jrocess  we 
;old  enters 

work  from 
t  the  bank 
lousand  or 


JACKSONVILLE,  AND  GOLD-MUilNG.       567 

fifteen  hundred  inches  of  water,  the  supply  fails, 
the  "  dry  season  "  having  arrived.  Then  the  mij^hty 
worker  takes  a  rest  until  the  next  rainy  period,  and 
there  begins  at  once  the  operation  known  in  mining 
language  as  "cleaning  up."  Some  of  the  men  care- 
fully wash  and  search  the  bed-rock.  Others  cau- 
tiously remove  the  accumulated  rock  and  gravel 
from  the  race.  These  tasks  may  be  accomplished 
in  a  few  days.  They  may  consume  the  remainder 
of  the  year.  All  depends  upon  the  quantity  of 
bank  washed  away.  Until  this  is  done,  water  is 
kept  flowing  gently  through  the  canal.  But  when 
accomplished,  the  fluid  is  partially  turned  off;  the 
rifflps  are  removed,  and  the  surface  of  sand  is  lightly 
rinsed  away.  Now  appears  the  long-sought  gold. 
It  is  carefully  gathered  up  with  spoons  and  knives, 
then  washed,  and  weighed,  and  perhaps  imme- 
diately dispatched  to  the  United  States  Mint,  whei-e 
the  Government  stamps  it  with  the  "  stars  and 
eagle  "  and  sends  it  forth  to  swell  the  cii'culating 
medium  of  the  country. 

It  would  be  well  if  the  only  fruit  of  hydraulic 
mining  were  the  making  of  gold  eagles  plentiful. 
A  far  less  desirable  result  is  the  overspreading  fer- 
tile plains  and  valleys  with  the  vast  quantities  of 
destructive  debris  which  the  giant  produces.  In 
Southern  Oregon  the  devastation  has  proceeded  to 
no  great  extent.  But  in  California,  where  hydraulic 
mining  was  conducted  for  years,  many  of  the  fairest 


il  I 


568 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


acres  of  the  State  were  desolated  by  the  immense 
deposits  of  rock,  sand,  and  gravil  washed  from  the 
hills  and  mountains.  The  havoc  continued  so  long 
as  the  mining  interests  of  the  State  were  considered 
paramount  to  those  of  agriculture.  But  when  rain- 
ing waned  some,  and  farming  came  into  prominence, 
it  was  discovered  that  burying  fertile  land  in  that 
manner,  was  an  irreparable  loss  to  the  State.  Where- 
upon the  husbandmen  went  to  work  and  secured 
from  the  Legislature  a  perpetual  injunction  against 
that  class  of  mining,  wherever  waste  of  productive 
territory  would  follow. 


h' 


Tir 


I<V. 

fISHLAND,  AT  IPHB  BASE  OP  THE  SiS- 

I^IYOUS. 


AT  an  early  period  of  Oregon  history,  probably 
in  the  Spring  of  1852,  qnite  a  company  of  per- 
sons might  have  been  seen  making  the  toilsome 
passage  of  the  Siskiyous,  on  their  way  to  the  even 
then  famous  Rogue  River  Valley.  The  party  all 
located,  if  I  mistake  not,  in  the  vicinity  of  this 
place.  One  of  the  number,  who  still  survives  to 
relate  to  history  writers  and  inquisitive  journalists, 
the  harsh  experiences  of  pioneer  life,  is  Mr.  A.  D. 
Helman,  the  founder  of  the  town.  Being  an  ardent 
Whig,  the  man  shared  in  the  almost  romantic  at- 
tachment of  his  party  for  Henry  Clay.  This  feel- 
ing, as  he  informed  me,  induced  him  to  give  to 
the  Oregon  town  the  name  of  Mr.  Clay's  Kentucky 
home,  and  also  that  of  his  own  native  village, 
Ashland,  Ohio. 

The  place  is  beautifully  located  at  the  junction 
of  Bear  and  Ashland  creeks,  both  swift,  narrow 
streams,  springing  from  the  heart  of  snow-clad 
hills,  and  affording  water-power  sufficient  to  drive 
a   multitude     of    mills  and  factories.     The    latter 

bisects  the  town,  and  is  ten  miles  long.     The  former 

569 


ll 

i 

;  I 


-I  -iJ- 


11 


570 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


flows  by  on  one  side,  and  after  a  journey  of  thirty 
miles  contributes  its  waters  to  the  marvelous  Rogue 
River.  Ashland  lies  partly  in  the  arena  and  partly 
on  the  western  side  of  an  amphitheater  of  majestic 
hills,  shaped  into  graceful  cono  and  sugar-loaves. 
Often  are  these  hills  the  scene  of  striking  atmos- 
pheric displays.  Yesterday,  from  my  room  in  the 
hospitable  home  of  Judge  J.  C.  Tolman,  the  present 
surveyor-general  of  Oregon,  I  witnessed  a  snow- 
storm draping  in  white  several  bold  hill-tops  near 
by,  and  a  few  hours  later  there  was  thrown  upon 
the  grass  half-way  up  these  very  elevations  a 
broad  rainbow  of  dazzling  colors,  not  arched  as  we 
are  accustomed  to  see  them,  but  straight  as  lines  of 
color  could  be  drawn.  On  several  other  occasions 
short,  perpendi"  ,ar  rainbows  were  seen  standing 
on  end  upon  the  eastern  hillsides.  At  another 
time  one-half  of  one  of  these  gay  objects  lay  pen- 
ciled upon  the  green  turf,  while  the  remainder 
turned  straight  up  toward  the  sky,  forming  a  right- 
angled  triangle.  When  the  snow  descended  in  the 
morning,  almond-trees,  hyacinths,  jonquils,  and 
dainty  grass  lilies  were  blooming  unconcernedly 
in  the  valleys  but  a  short  distance  below.  Grandeur 
and  altitude  surround  Ashland  on  all  sides. 

Soon  after  his  arrival  Mr.  Helman  laid  out  the 
town  on  his  own  estate,  and  immediately  began 
making  improvements  for  the  benefit  of  the  scat- 
tered settlers,  other  parties  joining  him  in  the  work. 


,f  thirty 

IS  Rogue 

1(1  vaitly 
majestic 

ir-loaves. 

g   atmos- 

m  in  the 

le  present 

I  a  snow- 

-tops  near 

■own  upon 

ivatious    a 

ched  as  we 

as  lines  of 

r   occasions 

n   standing 

At   another 
ts  lay  pen- 
remainder 
ng  a  right- 
nded  in  the 
nquils,    and 
concernedly 
Grandeur 

;idei5. 

laid  out  the 
iiately   began 

of  the  scat- 
li  in  the  work. 


ASIILA ND,  BASE  OF  THE  SISKl  YO  US.        571 

Soon  a  saw-mill  and  a  flour-mill  were  adding  their 
cheerful  whirr  and  hum  to  the  music  of  the  streams. 
The  next  year  a  post-office  was  added,  and  there- 
after for  twenty-eight  years  Mr.  fTelman  served  the 
people  of  Ashland  as  their  postm.ister.  The  gentle- 
man retains  vivid  recolleo'i  ns  of  certain  periods 
of  great  scarcity  and  want  in  th.  vuliey.  One  of 
these  occurred  in  the  Winter  -f  j»53,  that  follow- 
ing the  entree  of  his  party  into  the  region,  and 
was  occasioned  by  a  snow-storm  of  unprerodcnted 
duration. 

This  storm  raged  for  eighteen  days  throughout 
the  district.  At  that  time  flour  for  the  settlers  was 
obtained  by  pack-trains  from  Portland,  a  distance 
of  over  three  hundred  miles;  and  meats,  except 
wild  game,  came  over  the  lofty  Siskiyous  from 
Yreka,  California.  Naturally,  therefore,  when  the 
storm  began,  the  supply  of  provisions  among  the 
Ashland  families  was  limited.  Rapidly  fell  the 
fleecy  crystals,  and  soon  the  trails  were  impassable. 
"  Neither  men  nor  animals,"  said  Mrs.  Tolman, 
who  also  recalled  the  ordeal,  "  could  leave  the  val- 
ley. Each  night,  and  often  during  the  day,  fresh 
snow  fell.  Nearly  every  day,  also,  the  sun  shone 
warmly  for  a  time,  partially  ^^lelting  the  latest  in- 
stallment, which  in  turn  froze  hard  the  next  night. 
And  when  the  storm  really  abated,  the  region  was 
covered  with  a  blanket  of  pretty  solid  ice,  eighteen 
Inches   thick."     Almost  immediately,  then,  a  warm 


ll?;  if 


mm 


K 


672 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


rain  set  in,  and,  together  with  the  melting  ice, 
threatened  to  inundate  the  country.  Presently  the 
lower  part  of  the  valley  was  a  wide  sea.  But  hap- 
pily no  serious  results  followed,  and  as  quickly  as 
possible  in  came  tiie  trains  of  little  mules,  bringing 
•the  necessaries  of  life,  and  relief  to  all  hearts. 

The  simple  relation  of  such  an  experience,  at 
this  distant  day,  with  plenty  smiling  in  nearly 
every  home  in  the  valley,  is  an  act  far  from  pain- 
ful ;  but  to  live  three  weeks  with  scanty  stores 
daily  diminishing,  with  hunger  waiting  to  take 
seat  at  the  naked  board,  is  trial  most  unwelcome. 
Flour  became  excited  at  the  prospect,  and  went  up 
to  one  dollar  the  pound.  Potatoes  caught  the  fever, 
and  sold  at  twenty-five  cents  and  more  per  pound. 
Some  families  lived  for  days  without  bread.  Wheat, 
if  obtained  at  all,  was  cooked  in  the  berry.  In 
some  homes  wild  meat  constituted  the  bill  of  fare 
for  three  weeks.  It  is  thirty-six  years  since  that 
day,  yet  has  no  such  fall  of  snow  been  witnessed 
in  the  Rogue  River  Valley.  And  in  not  more  than 
two  seasons,  it  is  said,  have  herdsmen  been  obliged 
to  drive  in  and  feed  their  stock  on  account  of 
the  severity  of  the  climate.  Feeding,  however,  is 
now  quite  extensively  practiced,  because,  the  land 
having  been  "taken  up,"  the  ranges  are  limited. 

"  What  will  the  Rogue  River  Valley  and  its 
tributaries  produce  ?"  I  inquired  yesterday  of  a 
citizen. 


ASHLAND,  BASE  OF  THE  STSKIYOVS.       573 


3g    ice, 

itly  the 

\\xi  hap- 

ckly  as 

)ringing 

'ts. 

ience,  at 

1   nearly 

ora  pain- 
ty stores 

;  to   take 

I  welcome. 

I  went  up 

;  the  fever, 

)er  pound. 

\.   Wheat, 
lerry.     In 

^i\l  of  fare 
since  that 
witnessed 
more  than 
L>n  obliged 
account    of 
[lowever,  is 
ic,  the  land 
limited, 
iloy  and   its 
crday  of  a 


"  Ask  me  what  they  will  not  produce,"  he  re- 
plied, "and  I  can  say  that  oranges  will  not  grow 
here.  But  every  fruit  grown  in  the  north  tem- 
perate zone  attains  perfection  in  this  soil.  The 
region  teems  with  all  kinds  of  berries,  and  their 
flavor  is  delicious.  Figs  of  good  quality  have  been 
raised  in  the  open  air,  and  probably  no  spot  on  the 
continent  is  better  adapted  to  peach-culture  than 
are  these  foot-hills.  The  danger  from  frost  after 
the  trees  are  in  bloom  is  reduced  to  a  minimum. 
The  fruit  excels  in  size,  flavor,  and  color.  Many 
thousand  peach-trees  have  been  planted  this  Spring, 
more  than  in  all  the  previous  history  of  Soutlicrn 
Oregon.  Every  variety  does  well — the  rich,  juicy 
peach  to  be  eaten  out  of  the  hand,  and  the  long- 
keepers  fitted  to  bo  sent  to  distant  markets.  Thou- 
sands of  prune-trces,  also,  have  been  set  this 
Spring." 

"  Indian  bands  roamed  all  around  you  in  the 
early  days.     Did  you  find  them  friendly?" 

"Yes,  practically  so.  The  Indians  of  this 
valley  were  a  band  of  the  famous  Rogue  River 
tribe,  whose  hot  uprising  in  1853-54  sent  such 
wide-spread  terror  among  the  scattered  white  set- 
tlers ;  but  toward  the  people  of  Ashland  th(>y 
evinced  little,  if  any,  hostility.  Volunteer  com- 
panies were  raised  here  to  suppress  outbreaks  else- 
where 


>j 


In  addition  to  its  grand  scenery,  fertile  soil, and 


49 


'  I 


\tV> 


Ui'l 


574 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


almost  faultless  climate,  Ashland  is  noted  on  the 
coast  for  its  mineral  springs.  They  are  scattered 
all  abont  in  the  vicinity,  snlphur  springs  particu- 
larly, and  are  doing  their  utmost  toward  giving  the 
Orcgonians  pure  blood,  a  clean  skin,  and  flexible 
hair.  Some  of  the  latter  are  cold,  others  are  warm, 
and  all  vary  in  medicinal  properties.  One  of  these 
fragrant  fountains  on  any  man's  estate  is  said  to 
considerably  enhance  its  value.  Two,  one  tepid, 
the  other  frigid,  bubble  up  on  the  large  farm  of 
Judge  Tolman,  four  miles  outside  the  village. 
One,  highly  impregnated  with  the  mineral,  graces 
the  property  of  Mr.  Helman  in  the  foreground  of 
the  place.  Beside  it  is  a  trim  little  bath-house, 
fitted  up  with  every  n])pliance  for  taking  the  waters. 
All  are  perennial  and  as  wholesonu'  and  pnlatable 
for  animals  as  for  men.  It  is  claimed,  indeed,  that 
stock  will  pass  by  ordinary  water  to  drink  from  a 
sulphur  stream,  and  that  they  always  choose  the 
warm  instead  of  the  cold  fluid.  These  cleansing 
fountains  are  inviting  much  company  to  the  pretty 
town  under  the  shadows  of  the  Siskiyous.  But 
numbers  of  them  are  wasting  their  odors  on  the 
much  sweeter  mountain  air. 

It  may  be  supposed  fi'om  all  I  have  said  that 
i)rimstonc  is  the  only  mineral  which  Nature  stirs 
into  the  waters  of  Southern  Oregon  for  her  sons 
and  daughters,  and  creatures,  to  drink.  But  the 
facts  assert    the   contrary.     vSIio  well    knows  there 


3n  the 

altered 

)avtieu- 

ing  t\\c 

flexible 

c  warm, 

of  these 

i  said  to 

18  tepid, 

farm  of 

village. 

al,  graces 

pi'ound  of 

ith-bouse, 

the  waters. 
pnlatahle 

ideed, that 
nk  from  a 
choose  the 
:,  cleansing 
,  the  pretty 
/ous.     But 


lors   on 


the 


fo   said   tluit 
Stature  stirs 
lor  her  sons 
Ik.     Ihit  the 
IknoNVS  there 


ASHLAND,  BASE  OF  THE  SISKIYOUS       575 

are  ailments  which  sulphur  will  not  cure.  In  cer- 
tain springs,  therefore,  she  has  skillfully  mingled  a 
variety  of  ingredients,  with  the  purpose  of  eradi- 
cating a  half-dozen  diseases  from  a  single  mortal. 
Allow  me  to  describe  a  visit  I  paid  to  one  of  these 
sources  of  health. 

Just  after  breakfast  one  Wednesday  morning, 
toward  the  last  of  April,  a  bright  little  woman  from 
Ottumwa,  Iowa,  Mrs.  Tolman,  her  daughter,  a  sensi- 
ble bit  of  humanity,  and  myself,  took  seats  in  an 
open  carriage,  drawn  by  two  mismatched  horses, 
and  set  out  for  the  angle  of  country  inclosed  by  the 
intersection  of  the  Cascade  and  Siskiyou  Mountains, 
ten  miles  distant,  Mrs.  Tolman  acting  as  driver. 
Far  up  in  this  angle,  on  the  very  brink  of  a  narrow 
stream,  called  Emigrant  Creek,  there  wells  up  a 
fountain  possessing  manifold  curative  qualities,  and, 
what  is  a  little  singular,  its  waters  are  totally  unlike 
those  of  the  current  beside  which  it  breaks  forth, 
the  latter  having  no  medicinal  virtues  Avhatever. 
Nor  is  this  a  solitary  instance  of  the  kind.  Along 
the  margin  of  thin  creek,  some  miles  apart,  gush  up 
other  notable  healing  springs,  their  waters  diverse 
from  that  of  the  stream. 

For  half  the  dista.ice,  probably,  our  way  led  up 
the  valley  of  Bear  Creek,  with  its  green  wheat- 
fieh's,  its  peach  and  cherry  trees  in  bloom.  Then, 
turning  more  to  the  eastward,  we  soon  climbed  a 
lofty  spur,   and,   lo !  the   earth  stood  up  in  points, 


It     ( 


h.>.li 


mil  I  \^'     i 

'  11'   '    J 


i 


fit 


li^l 


11 


I 


576 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


ridges,  and  summits,  far  as  we  could  see.  At  its 
base  swept  Emigrant  Creek,  so  named,  said  Mrs. 
Tolman,  because,  in  an  early  day,  Lindsay  Applegate, 
a  distinguished  pioneer  of  Oregon,  conducted  several 
parties  of  emigrants  into  the  Rogue  River  Val- 
ley over  these  sightly  elevations  and  down  the  bank 
of  this  chatty  stream.  Mr.  Applegate,  now  far  ad- 
vanced in  years,  is  a  resident  of  Ashland.  Like  his 
son,  Hon.  Elisha  Applegate,  also  a  citizen  of  the 
place,  he  was  by  nature  a  friend  to  the  Red  Man; 
was  inherently  just  toward  him,  and  never  knew 
the  slightest  fear  of  him.  His  influence  over  the 
bauds  in  these  valleys  was  potent,  and  parties  of 
white  people  guided  by  him  were  quite  sur«i  to  reach 
their  destination. 

The  Applegates  were  a  Missouri  people,  from 
about  where  St.  Louis  now  stands,  I  think.  They 
came  into  Oregon  with  the  earliest  emigrants — two 
or  three  families  of  them — encountering  almost  end- 
less hardships  and  perils;  some  meeting  with  death 
on  the  way,  and  others  with  hair-breadth  escapes 
therefrom.  They  were  a  brave,  intelligent,  peculiar 
people,  fond  of  books,  possessed  of  strong  person- 
ality, were  naturally  kind  and  sympathetic.  Lindsay 
Applegate,  a  brother,  Jesse  Applegate,  known  all 
over  Oregon  by  the  sobriquet  of  "  the  Sage  of 
Yoncalla,"  and  Elisha  Applegate,  have  all  stamped 
their  impress,  more  or  less,  upon  Oregon  life  and 
affairs.     The  latter,  the  most  unique  of  men,  chose 


ASHLAND,  BASE  OF  THE  SISKIYOUS.        577 


to  become  a  lawyer.  His  strong  point  is  story- 
telling. Gifted  with  a  marvelous  memory,  and  ap- 
parently born  to  encounter  the  incredible  in  life,  he 
has  laid  away  a  fund  of  extraordinary  tales,  with 
Avhich  he  enchants  of  evenings  nearly  every  fireside 
in  the  neighborhood. 

Now,  take  a  look  at  that  elevation  on  our  left. 
Clinging  to  its  side  is  a  marvel  in  the  shape  of 
huge,  dark-red  sandstone  rocks,  piled  up  in  posi- 
tions so  precarious  that  none  other  than  Cyclopean 
hands  could  have  performed  the  feat;  and  chiseled 
into  figures  so  whimsical,  that  the  waves  must  have 
exercised  their  talent  for  sculpture  in  shaping  them. 
Those  enormous  stones  are  placed  upon  lilliputian 
ones,  exactly  as  if  by  design.  What  a  singular  con- 
ceit was  it  to  form  that  prodigious  hat,  of  perfect 
Quaker  pattern — crown  large,  brim  broad — and 
place  it  top  down  upon  that  tall  column  of  red 
sandstone!  And  what  hater  of  reptiles  fashioned 
that  colossal  toad,  and  then  cruelly  stationed  it 
where,  to  the  end  of  time,  it  must  forego  the  pleasure 
of  robbing  bee-hives,  or  of  clearing  gardens  of  de- 
structive insects?  Geological  speculation  replies  as 
fullows: 

In  the  long  by-gone  of  time  almost  all  the  ter- 
ritory now  termed  "the  Pacific  Coast''  was  covered 
*  by  the  waters  of  the  great  ocean,  which  extended 
as  far  eastward  as  the  Blue  Mountains  in  Elastern 
Oregon  and   Washington.      As  the  ages  rolled   on 


is 


Ji  I 


i  : 


IMiv- 


Wl 


578 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


there  occurred  three  successive  recessions  of  this 
vast  sea,  volcanic,  or  other  agencies  lifting  up  the 
bold  mountain  ranges,  and  forming  corresponding 
depressions  at  the  bottom  of  the  deep.  As  the  up- 
heavals took  place  the  waters  withdrew,  until  there 
existed  the  Pacific  Coast  of  to-day,  the  Rocky,  Cas- 
cade, and  Coast  Ranges  marking  the  three  vast 
abatements  of  the  water.  If  this  hypothesis  be  sus- 
ceptible of  proof,  it  gives  us  the  agencies  by  which 
most,  if  not  all,  the  physical  miracles  of  the  Pacific 
Coast  have  been  performed. 

But  we  have  come  several  miles  during  this  talk, 
and  are  now  in  front  of  an  inviting  hotel,  with 
rooms  for  thirty  guests,  and  conducted  by  Jacob 
AVagner,  from  Dayton,  Ohio.  Surrounding  the  house 
are  fifty  acres  of  land,  very  little  of  which  was  made 
to  lie  down.  In  front,  behind  »is,  to  the  right,  to 
the  left  of  us,  massive  mountains  show  their  respect 
for  mortals  by  standing.  They  are  green  to  the  top. 
Cattle  range  upon  them  ;  trees  clothe  them ;  swift 
streams  leap  from  their  heart.  They  crowd  around 
us,  narrow  our  horizon,  but  kindle  our  awe.  A 
wilderness  of  rose-bushes  forms  a  tangle  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  yard.  Daisies,  double,  limmed  with  pink, 
are  scattered  among  the  grass,  making  us  careful 
where  we  tread,  and  mindful  that  flowers  "crushed 
to  earth"  may  not  "rise  again."  ' 

But  a  few  feet  from  the  road,  on  the  other  side, 
comes  to   view  again    our   friend,  Emigrant  Creek. 


ASHLAND,  BASE  OF  THE  SISKIYOUS.       579 


of  this 

up  the 
ponding 

tlie  up- 
til  there 
ky,  Oas" 
ree   vast 
s  be  sus- 
ov  which 
le  Pacific 

this  talk, 
)tel,  with 
by  Jacob 
the  house 
was  made 
i  right,  to 
eir  respect 
to  the  top. 
lem ;  swift 
wd  around 
r  awe.     A 
in  one  cor- 
with  pink, 
r  un  careful 
rs  "crushed 


Willow,  elder,  wild-cherry,  and  a  bcantiful  shrub 
called  Oregon  grape,  fringe  its  banks.  On  its  verge, 
under  a  sort  of  Summer-house,  bubbles  the  spring 
we  have  come  miles  to  taste.  A  rivulet  issuing  from 
it  dyes  the  stone  rust-color,  disclosing  the  presence 
of  iron  in  the  water.  Other  constituents  are  soda 
and  magnesia  in  plentiful  amount,  with  still  others, 
all  highly  curative!  To  this  fountain  Nature  in- 
vites such  of  her  children  as  suffer  from  kidney 
troubles,  the  horrors  of  dyspepsia,  typhoid,  bilious, 
and  some  other  direful  fevers.  Aud^  wisely,  tlie 
physicians  of  the  region  almost  unanimously  second 
her  invitation. 

It  may  be  added  of  Ashland  that,  blest  with 
abundant  water-power,  the  place  is  giving  attention 
to  manufactures.  A  woolen-mill,  rnnning  four  hun- 
dred and  eighty  spindles  and  several  knitting  ma- 
chines, was  established  in  1868.  It  works  up  from 
sixteen  to  twenty  thousand  pounds  of  wool  per 
month,  day  and  night  sending  its  music  abroad 
through  the  village.  Its  products  are  shawls,  cloths, 
fine  blankets,  underwear,  hosiery.  There  are  also 
j)laning-mills,  saw-mills,  a  flour-mill,  and  cabinet- 
shops  in  the  place. 


>    :<    I 


fi  yi 


»  other  side, 
rrant  Creek. 


If, 


ml  ''i   ' 


h 


I<VI. 


AMONG  the  pleasures  to  be  enjoyed  in  Oregon, 
and,  indeed,  on  the  entire  Pacific  Coast,  is  the 
listening  to  thrilling  accounts  of  the  "crossing  the 
plains"  from  the  lips  of  surviving  pioneers.  Every 
locality,  and  every  circumstance  of  the  long,  perilous 
journey,  seems  to  have  been  stamped  ineffaceably 
upon  their  memory.     Even    the   brief  parleys   and 

4 

conversations  of  the  far-off  time  are  recalled  as 
readily  as  though  spoken  but  yesterday.  That  was, 
perhaps,  the  dreariest  chapter  of  their  lives,  yet  to 
this  day  does  it  exert  upon  them  a  strange  fascina- 
tion, the  charm  of  which  increases,  apparently,  as 
time  removes  them  from  tiie  hunger,  thirst,  fear, 
and  fatigue  they  endured.  The  evident  pleasure 
with  which  the  survivors  turn  the  leaves  of  this 
book  of  the  past,  always  strikes  me  as  something 
inexplicable.  Again  and  again,  during  my  three 
years'  journeying  on  the  coast,  have  I  sat  spell- 
bound of  evenings,  until  far  into  the  night,  listening 
to  these  recitals.  Sometimes  the  fire  has  burned  low 
on  the  hearth,  the  room  has  become  chilly,  and  the 
younger   members   of  the  family — Oregon    born — 

have  dropped  off  to  bed,  one  by  one,  and  still  the 

580 


A  PECULIAR   WEDDINQ-TRIP. 


581 


)regon, 

,,  is  the 

ing  the 
Every 

perilous 

Faceably 

eys   aiul 

ialled   as 

'hat  was, 

ps,  yet  to 
fascina- 

rently,  as 

irst,  fear, 

pleasure 

s  of  this 

iomethiug 
my  three 
sat  spell- 
,  listening 
urncd  low 
y,  and  the 
)n    born — 
k1  still  the 


narrator  would  go  on,  until  I  drew  my  chair  into 
tlic  chlmnoy-norner,  and  thrust  my  stiffened  fingers 
toward  the  few  embers  glowing  among  the  asiies. 
Finally,  the  end  reached,  I  would  retire,  less  to 
sleep  than  to  think  over  the  trials  which  befell  the 
emigrant-train  of  wliich  that  friend  formed  a  part. 

I  remember  to  have  called  one  evening,  upon 
an  eminent  lady  who  had  made  the  transit  with  one 
of  the  earliest  companies  seeking  homes  in  Oregon. 
No  sooner  was  some  slight  allusion  made  to  her 
heroic  life  in  the  State,  than  the  scenes  of  the  ill- 
fated  journey  rose  in  her  mind,  and  she  at  once 
began  a  graphic  account  of  the  sorrows  and  adven- 
tures of  the  distressful  way.  When  she  had  con- 
cluded, it  was  no  longer  a  mystery  to  me  that  even 
young  girls,  after  months  of  such  extraordinary 
drill,  were  ready  for  the  desperate  struggle  with 
circumstances  which  awaited  some  of  them  upon 
entering  these  fair  valleys. 

If  to  learn  to  be  patient,  to  be  vigilant,  to  act 
quickly  in  emergencies,  to  face  danger  unmoved,  to 
suffer  serious  losses  and  not  repine,  to  promptly  as- 
sume sudden  responsibility,  to  sacrifice  one's  self  for 
others  good,  and  to  trust  the  Divine  hand  through 
all,  be  profitable  training,  then  must  many  of  the 
pioneer  women  of  the  coast  have  been  educated  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  word. 

I  had  several  times  heard  Mrs.  Tolman  refer  to 
her  journoy  from  Towa  to  Oregon,  aS  her  wedding- 


^i^i  li 


t 


si 


■li 


V  ' 


\    \ 


582 


,S'0  IITIIEUN  OREO  ON. 


trip.  So,  a  few  ovcnings  preceding  our  jiiuiit  up 
Emigrant  Creek,  happening  to  hq  seated  together 
before  a  cheerful  fire  in  the  sitting-room,  she  with 
some    light  vv()rk  in  her  hand,  I  inquired  of  her  : 

"In  what  year  did  you  come  to  Oregon?"  We 
had  l)oen  talking  about  the  early  days,  and  the 
deeds  of  the  Indians  during  the  celebrated  Rogue 
lliver  War. 

"We  came  in  the  Summer  of  1852." 

"  There  was  a  great  immigration  that  year.  Had 
you  a  largo  company?" 

"  We  numbered  sixty-five  persons  and  sixteen 
vehicles.  Our  company  hift  Oskaloosa,  Iowa,"  she 
obligingly  continued  to  say,  "  on  the  29th  of  April, 
Mr.  Tolman  and  I  having  been  married  but  two 
days  i)reviously.  Chiefly,  the  company  was  organ- 
ized at  Ottumwa,  my  husband's  place  of  residence; 
and  being  a  man  well  qualified  to  settle  disputes, 
and  to  allay  controversies — such  difficulties  being 
liable  to  arise  in  every  emigrant  train,  you  know — 
he  was  unanimously  chosen  its  leader. 

"Oskaloosa  being  on  the  route,  the  entire  party 
accompanied  Mr.  Tolman  thither,  and  were  en- 
camped in  the  place  at  the  time  of  our  marriage. 
Then  together,  we  set  out  for  the  Missouri  River, 
by  way  of  Fort  Des  Moines,  as  the  city  of  Des 
Moines  was  then  called.  The  morning  was  bright, 
and  notwithstanding  the  home-leaving  and  the  long 
farewells,  all  were  in  good  spirits." 


A  PECULIAR  WEDDINQ-TRIP. 


r>83 


11  nt   "P 
[)get\u'r 
lie  witW 
her : 
i>"     We 
uul    the 
I  Rogue 


ar.    Huil 

d  sixteen 
)wa,"  she 
of  April, 
but   two 
as  organ- 
residence  ; 
>  (iisputes, 
ties  V)eiug 
)ii  know — 

ntire  party 
were    <ni- 
marriago. 
ouri  llivor, 
oity  of  Des 
was  bright, 
nd  the  long 


"Were  there  no  iniddlc-aojod  nien  in  the  com- 
pany, that  a  young  man  sliouhl  iuvve  been  made 
general-in-cl)ief?"  I  interrupted. 

"Yes,  but  my  husband  liiid  before  crossed  the 
plains,  and  therefore  possessed  some  experience 
which  was  vahiable  ;  besides  he  was  much  my  senior, 
and  older  than  you  suppose." 

"  Were  not  sixty  persons  a  small  number  to  face 
the  dangers  from  Indians,  at  that  day?" 

"Not  then,  I  think  ;  but  ten,  or  even  five  years 
previously,  lo  have  attempted  the  journey  with  so 
small  a  party,  would  have  been  considered  ex- 
tremely hazardous.  Starting  so  early  in  the  season, 
we  found  the  roads  over  the  prairies  of  Iowa  in 
an  exasperating  ciudition.  Nevertheless  all  went 
smoothly  until  we  reached  that  point  on  the  Mis- 
souri where  now  stands  the  town  of  Council  lilufls, 
that  name  being  given  to  the  Mormon  settlement 
on  its  site,  formerly  known  as  Kanesville,  by  act 
of  the  Iowa  General  Assembly,  in  1853. 

"  We  found  encamped  there  a  whole  city  of 
emigrants,  awaiting  their  turn  to  cross  the  river.  Its 
])assage  was  not  then  effected  in  palace  cars,  nor  by 
means  of  a  bridge,  marvelous  as  a  piece  of  engineer- 
ing. As  we  were  not  entitled  to  precedence,  we 
were  forced  to  tarry  until  om-  opportunity  came. 
This  delayed  us  three  days.  But  the  19th  of  May 
saw  us  all  safely  transferred  to  the  western  bank. 
And  now,  as  before,  my  husband's  two  strong  teams 


II 


I! 


584 


mUTUERN  OR  EG  ON. 


hi'  'ti'\ 


„m 


>  i 


(hawing  our  provisions,  bedding,  and  clothing,  and 
onr  carriage  bcliind  two  valuable  horses,  preceded 
the  long  train. 

"That  mode  of  urging  the  Star  of  Empire  on 
its  way  westward,  aflbrdcd  the  best  of  opportiinies 
for  the  display  of  human  nature.  Exactly  what 
men  were,  was  sure  to  be  disclosed  by  the  inevitable 
trials  of  the  trip,  even  in  the  absence  of  terrible 
dangers  and  misfortinios.  This  fact  was  illustrated 
by  a  trifling  incident  as  we  pulled  out  upon  the 
broad  prairies  of  Nebraska,  which  evinced  the 
native  traits  of  one  of  our  number,  as  well  as  Mr. 
Tolman's  method  of  adjusting  a  disagreeable  matter. 

"A  member  of  the  company  from  Ottumwa  had 
contributed  to  the  general  stock  of  provisions,  a 
quantity  of  butter,  honey,  and  other  articles,  con- 
senting to  assist  in  the  oare  of  the  train  for  his  pas- 
sage. He  now  triumphantly  claimed,  that  having 
provided  aniple  food  for  himself  for  the  trip,  he 
was  under  no  obligations  to  meet  the  engagement. 
Informed  of  this,  Mr.  Tolman  quietly  offered  the 
fellow  a  tempting  sum  for  his  groceries,  which  ho 
thoughtlessly  accepted,  and  then  discovered  that  his 
only  expedient  was  to  work  for  his  transportation. 
Thus  was  brought  to  an  end  all  discontent  on  his 
account. 

"  Onward  we  moved,  now,  the  fervid  sun  beating 
down  upon  our  heads,  but  underneath  our  feet  Iny 
a  carpet    of   green  grass  and  wild    flowers.      Fre- 


m 


A   fECULIA/i   WEDDINQ-TRIP. 


585 


ig. 


nnct 
ceded 


re 


I  pi  re  on 
ortunies 
ly  what 
ievital)le 

terrible 
lust  rated 
ipon  the 
iced    the 

II  as  Mr. 
iB  matter, 
mwa  had 
visions,  a 
cles,  con- 
r  his  pas- 
at  having 
e  trip,  he 
gagement. 
iffered   the 

whiclk  he 
id  that  his 
sportation. 
ent  on  his 

sun  beating 
)ur  feet  lay 
hrers.      F'^'- 


qncntly  we  passed  acr  s  of  cacti  and  moss-roses  in 
brilliant  bloom.  I  must  not  forget  to  say  that  we 
had  scarce  left  the  Missouri  ere  the  Pawnee  and 
Omaha  Indians  began  their  annoying  attentions. 
The  Pawnees  were  incorrigibli!  beggars,  and  at 
night  swarmed  about  our  tent,  thick  as  mosquitoes, 
in  the  hope  of  obtaining  certain  articles  wiiieh  they 
greatly  coveted.  After  enduring  considerable  of 
their  maneuvering,  Mr.  Tolman  sagaciously  em- 
ployed their  chief  to  conduct  our  train  beyond  the 
bounds  of  the  tribe.  Barely  had  the  compact  been 
closed,  when  a  band  of  them  sprang  up  right  in  our 
path.  But  upon  espying  their  chief  they  as  sud- 
d(!nly  disappeared. 

"A  few  days  subsequently  we  were  gladdened 
by  a  sight  of  the  broad  I'latte  River  Howing  be- 
fore us.  Owing  to  the  ])resence  of  quicksand,  its 
unstable  bed  rendered  our  passage  of  the  stream 
not  a  little  dangerous.  After  a  number  of  teams 
had  crossed,  the  sand,  stirred  by  the  wheels  of  the 
wagons  and  the  feet  of  the  animals,  itself  set  out 
on  a  journey,  compelling  the  remainder  of  the  party 
to  seek  transfer  elsewhere.  Eight  miles'  travel 
then,  up  the  south  bank,  brought  us  to  Fort  Kear- 
ney, where  were  two  comfortable  abodes  and  other 
reminders  of  the  homes  we  had  lofl. 

"  Here  rumors  were  afloat  that  cholera  prevailed 
among  the  trains  in  advance  of  us.  These  were 
painfully  confirmed,  as  we  progressed  in  our  course, 


l! 


§.  ii 


Tirjj 


586 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


HI'. 


ii 


I- 


ilMi 


l:i.l 


.1 1 


I 


by  the  sight  of  frequent  newly  made  graves.  Under 
the  circumstances  such  objects  -svere  little  calculated 
to  promote  cheerfulness  in  our  ranks;  for  we  Mere 
now  in  a  region  where  water  to  quench  thirst  could 
seldom  be  obtained,  except  from  the  turbid  Platte, 
and  where  our  only  fuel  was  dry  weeds  and  buf- 
falo chips.  Moreover,  the  heat  was  intense ;  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  shade.  We  could  do  but  two 
things,  advance  or  retreat.  The  latter  was  not  in- 
cluded in  our  program ;  therefore  we  hastened  for- 
ward, resolved  to  both  overtake  and  leave  the 
cholera  behind  us.  And  this  we  actually  accom- 
plished, but  not  until  we  had  passed  Fort  Laramie, 
and  were  well  in  the  Black  Hills  of  Wyoming. 

"One  day,  while  in  the  cholera  district,  we  came 
upon  a  wagon  drawn  out  upon  the  roadside.  From 
it  a  man's  voice  called  out,  inquiring  if  there  were 
a  physician  in  our  company. 

"'Yes,'  was  the  reply. 

" '  Will  he  kindly  stop  and  see  a  woman  who  is 
ill  ?'  he  asked. 

"  The  doctor  alighted,  and  found  in  the  con- 
veyance a  woman  in  the  final  stages  of  cholera. 
The  company  to  which  the  parties  belonged  had 
sped  on,  leaving  them  to  fare  as  best  they  could. 
Still  further  on  the  way  we  observed  a  freshly  made 
grave,  which  gave  unnjistakablc  evidence  of  having 
been  invaded  by  ra[)acious  coyotes.  A  number  of 
human  bones  lay  scattered  about,  and  on  a  narrow 


A  PECULIAR  WEDDING-TRIP. 


587 


Under 
[ciliated 
,ve  were 
st  could 
i  Platte, 
nd  buf- 
e ;  there 

but  two 
i  not  in- 
;ned  for- 
gave the 
f  accom- 
Laramie, 
"ning. 

we  came 
c.  From 
acre  were 


m  who  is 

the   con- 
f  cholera, 
nired  had 
icy  could, 
shly  nuule 
of  having 
lumber  of 
1  a  uarrow 


bit  of  board  lying  on  the  ground  I  road  the  name 
of  an  intimate  friend  who  had  preceded  us  in  the 
doleful  journey  but  a  few  days.  She  left  a  family 
of  four  little  children,  tiie  youngest  of  whom  died 
shortly  after.  [At  such  terrible  cost  it  was,  in  many 
instances,  that  Oregon  was  peopled  by  its  present 
sterling  class  of  inhabitants.] 

"  About  the  13th  of  June,  our  entire  company 
was  much  enlivened  by  the  sight  of  a  most  unique 
feature  in  the  scenery  before  us.  This  was  the  so- 
called  'Sandstone  Bluffs,'  a  massive  body  of  rock, 
chiseled  into  columns,  castles,  towers,  and  other 
forms,  apparently  by  the  storms  of  centuries.  To 
our  overstrained  feelings  the  scene  was  wonderfully 
refreshing.  The  following  day,  if  I  mistake  not,  we 
came  upon  another  remarkable  object,  the  '  Ne- 
braska Court-house,'  a  huge,  natural  structure, 
resembling  a  vast  stone  temple  in  a  state  of  ruin. 
It  stands. on  the  south  side  of  the  Platte,  in  striking 
contrast  to  the  s])iritlcss  scenery  around.  It  was  a 
sight  never  to  be  forgotten.  The  next  attraction 
was  'Chimney  Rock,'  looming  up  in  the  distance. 
We  had  been  looking  for  it  as  eagerly  as  for  a 
friendly  beacon,  and  hailed  the  appearance  of  the 
spire-like  column  with  joy.  Its  height  above  the 
plain  is  said  to  be  three  hundred  feet.  It  remained 
in  view  all  the  next  day,  or  until  we  had  gained 
*S(!ott'.s  H'utfs,'  crowned  with  their  inviting  cedar 
groves.     Our  train   had  left  the  south  bank  of  the 


j,     I 


If 


I  'I 


\\ 


^'  t  'If 


588 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


Platte,  and  was  now  passing  up  the  valley  of  its 
North  Fork,  with  the  surroundings  increasing  in  in- 
terest every  hour. 

"At  last  Fort  I^aramie  greeted  our  vision. 
There  Mr.  Tolman,  worn  by  anxiety,  care,  and 
fatigue,  was  ill  two  days.  During  the  detention 
caused  by  this,  most  of  the  party  added  to  the 
postal  revenue  by  writing  to  their  friends  in  Iowa. 
I  myself  happened  to  be  so  engaged,  when  a  sud- 
den, wild  wind-storm  swept  through  the  camp, 
wrenched  my  tent  from  its  moorings,  and  sent  my 
letter  flying  through  the  air  towards  home,  thus 
cutting  short  my  story,  but  saving  the  then  heavy 
postage.  I  never  learned  whether  the  missive 
reached  its  destination,  and  never  since  have  patron- 
ized that  system  of  mail-carrying; 

"  Upon  resuming  our  course  we  were  all  barely 
well  out  from  the  fort,  when  there  dashed  up  to 
our  carriage  a  man  mounted  upon  a  burro,  out  of 
all  proportion  to  his  own  size.  The  fellow  was  tall, 
finely  built,  had  eyes  like  jet,  had  a  Spanish  com- 
plexion, and  the  air  of  a  desperado.  Appearing  to  be 
in  great  haste,  he  addressed  my  husband  abruptly,  . 
saying : 

"  *  Look  here,  stranger,  I  see  you  have  two  mules 
following  this  train,  \yhich  you  are  not  using. 
Now,  I  want  them  to  help  draw  my  wagon,  which 
you  saw  by  the  roadside,  back  here,  to  Yreka,  Cali- 
fornia, where,  I  understand,  you  are  going.     And, 


A  PECULIAR  WEDDING-TRIP. 


589 


7  of  its 
g  in  in- 

vision. 
ire,   and 
ietention 
I  to   the 
in  Iowa, 
n  a  sud- 
le   camp, 
sent  my 
)me,  thus 
en  heavy 
I    missive 
ve  patron- 
all  barely 
ed  up  to 
ro,  out  of 
was  tall, 
nish  com- 
anng  to  he 
abruptly, 

two  mules 
not    usmg. 
hich 


vv 


gou, 

reka,  Cali- 

iing.     And, 


more  than  that,  I  want  to  travel  in  your  company ; 
and  when  we  get  through,  my  woman  and  I  will 
just  vacate  the  wagon,  and  you  will  be  welcome  to 
it,  mules  and  all.' 

"'All  that  sounds  well  from  a  man  I  never 
saw  before,'  replied  Mr.  Tolman,  i^vich  amused. 
*  I  doubt  if  those  mules  will  ])r()ve  of  much  value 
to  you,  they  have  not  been  broken.  But  how  do 
you  hapjjen  to  find  yourself  in  such  a  fix  ?' 

" '  Well,  you  see,  I  had  two  good  mules  when  I 
left  Texas,  or,  rather,  another  fellow  and  I  started 
with  two  learns  and  one  heavy  wagon ;  but  one 
night  he  lit  out  with  the  best  team,  leaving  me  two 
little  specimens  like  this,  and  they  are  not  strong 
enough  to  ])ull  us  through.  I  can  break  your 
mules  if  you  '11  let  me  take  them.  I  have  n't 
any  money,  and  can  't  pay  you  a  cent,  but  you  shall 
have  my  wagon.' 

"'Take  them,'  said  the  chief  of  the  company, 
curtly,  and  the  fellow  did ;  and  upon  our  arrival 
at  Yreka  delivered  up  the  wagon,  declaring  he  had 
no  further  need  of  it. 

"  We  now  proceeded  on  our  way  without  special 

incident  until,  one  day,  in  the  famous  valley  of  the 

Sweetwater,  word  was  brought  to  our  carriage  that 

a  wagon   in  the  rear  iiad  broken  down.     Going  to 

the    spot    we   found    a   family   in   a    truly    pitiable 

plight,  with  one  of  the  wheels  of  their  conveyance 

crushed  completely,  and  the  women  sitting  by  the 

50 


4  - 


590 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


r    I 


;i.. 


I; 


roadside  crying,  their  judgment  assuring  them  there 
was  no  such  thing  as  repairing  a  ruin  like  that. 
Among  our  number  were  two  bachelors,  with  a 
staunch  vehicle  now  well  lightened  of  its  former 
store  of  provisions.  To  transfer  to  this,  the  pos- 
sessions of  the  unfortunates,  and  the  unmarried 
men  to  our  carriage,  was  but  short  work ;  after 
which  Mr.  Tolman  and  myself  each  mounted  extra 
horses  of  our  own,  and  made  the  remaining  seven 
hundred  miles  of  the  distance  on  horseback. 

"  U2)on  entering  the  valley  of  the  Sweetwater 
we  were  greeted  with  a  fine  view  of  that  well- 
known  object,  *  Independence  Rock.'  Our  route 
up  the  stream  lay  between  two  ranges  of  mountains, 
with  majestic  scenery  on  either  hand.  There  were 
summits  mantled  with  snow.  The  air  was  cold  and 
bracing.  Emerging  from  this  valley,  we  next  trav- 
ersed a  desolate  region  now  enlivened,  if  I  mistake 
not,  by  the  Oregon  Short  Line  Railway,  in  its  pas- 
sage through  Idaho.  We  were  here  able  to  obtain 
water  for  ourselves  and  animals,  only  by  digging 
new  wells,  as  previous  emigrant^  had  done. 

"A  great  miracle  of  the  way  now  presented 
itself  This  was  a  series  of  colossal  rocks.  So  dis- 
posed by  nature,  and  so  sculptured  by  the  fingers 
of  the  elements,  as  to  closely  resemble  a  town,  with 
buildings,  spires,  and  towers.  As  our  long  train 
filed  through  the  natural  avenue  traversing  the  cen- 
ter, we  gazed  awe-struck  upon  the  peculiar  marvel. 


A  PECULIAR  WEDDING-TRIP. 


591 


there 
,  that. 
vitH  a 
former 
le  pos- 
narried 
;    after 
d  extra 
g  seven 

eetwater 
lat  well- 
ur   route 
lountains, 
[lere  were 
i  cold  and 
lext  trav- 
I  mistake 
in  its  pas- 
te obtain 
y  digging 

ae. 
presented 

;ks,  So  dis- 
the   fingers 
town,  witb 
long  train 
ing  the  cen- 
iliar  marvel. 


Very  appropriate  is  the  name  '  City  of  Rocks ' 
which  some  one  has  attached  to  it. 

"  I  have  omitted  to  mention  that  some  days 
prior  to  this,  we  had  tarried  several  lionrs  heside 
*  Black  Rock  Springs/  which  mark  tiie  entrance  to 
'  Black  Rock  Desert/  so  called  from  the  Cimme- 
rian hue  of  the  massive  stones  lying  all  ahout. 
These  fonntains  are  scarcely  less  niarvclons,  as  a 
production  of  nature,  than  is  the  silent  city  of  stone. 
The  water  is  extremely  hot.  A  man  of  our  train, 
who  accidentally  slipped  into  one  of  them,  sprang 
out,  a  subject  for  the  doctor's  care.  His  desire  to 
test  the  temperature  of  the  fluid  was  fully  satisfied. 
Here  we  fed  the  animals,  and  busied  ourselves  with 
cooking,  and  other  preparations  for  crossing  the 
'Alkaline  Desert '  before  us,  which  could  best  be 
traversed  at  night,  owing  to  the  powerful  iiflection 
of  the  light  and  heat  from  its  white  surface.  A 
remarkable  feature  of  the  place,  is,  that  the  bodies 
of  animals  which  have  perished  upon  i(,  never 
decay.     In  Winter  the  depression  is  a  lake. 

"At  our  next  camping  station,  a  young  babe  of 
our  party  yielded  up  its  brief  life.  The  little  body 
was  inclosed  in  a  tiny  coffin,  made  of  the  decking  of 
one  of  our  vehicles,  and  placed  in  a  deep  grave, 
which  the  men  thoughtfully  filled  up  with  stones, 
that  the  flesh  of  the  sweet  slce|1l;r,  might  be  'iafe 
from  the  greedy  coyotes.  This,  happily,  was  the 
enly  death  in  our  ranks  during  the  joUrney. 


iiii 


592 


SOUTHERN  OREGON. 


»    ■ 


"Tlie  next  step  of  importance  was  our  inva- 
sion of  the  realm  of  the  Modoc  Indians,  who,  just 
at  that  juncture,  were  in  a  particularly  hostile  frame 
of  mind.  Owing  to  the  fact  that  a  train  preceding 
ours  had  been  attacked,  and  several  of  the  company 
murdered  by  the  savages,  the  people  of  Shasta 
County,  California,  quickly  raised,  and  di.spatclu'd 
to  meet  us,  a  force  of  mounted  volu„-3ers,  who,  for 
two  days  before  we  entered  the  dreaded  territory, 
formed  our  escort.  Upon  reaching  Modoc  Lake, 
the  main  road  winds  past  a  locality  called  Bloody 
Point.  Here  the  band  lay  in  wait  for  us,  concealed 
among  the  tules,  and  watching  our  descent  of  a 
rocky  bluif  but  a  short  distance  away.  Fortunately 
our  guides,  having  discovered  a  'cut-off' leading 
around  the  lake  opposite  this  lurking-place,  con- 
ducted our  train  by  that  trail  and  brought  us  out 
into  a  pretty  valley  leading  away  from  the  Lake, 
ere  the  Indians  perceived  that  they  were  outwitted. 
Soon,  however,  they  were  in  hot  pursuit.  Our 
progress  was  immediately  checked,  and  the  vehicles 
were  arranged  in  compact  order  to  await  their  ar- 
rival. The  warriors  were  much  chagrined  at  our 
good  generalship,  but  protested  that  they  only  de- 
sired to  Mearn  where  we  were  going.' 

"  Rut  the  following  day  proved  the  falsity  of 
their  words ;  for  nine  mounted  men,  members  of  an 
emigrant  company  behind  us,  also  under  escort,  who 
did  not  heed  the  counsel  given  them,  were  attacked 


A  PECULIAR  WEDDING-TRIP. 


593 


at  '  Bloody  Point'  and  killed,  with  a  single  excep- 
tion. The  survivor  being  saved  only  by  the  speed 
of  his  horse;  which  ran  until  he  fell,  powerless  to 
go  further.  The  rider  then  wandered  in  the  woods 
for  some  time,  and  finally  emerged  at  the  very  spot 
where  the  animal  had  fallen,  and  there  found  him 
quietly  cropping  grass.  Mounting  the  creature,  he 
soon  overtook  our  train  and  to  Mr.  Tolman  and 
myself  related  the  story. 

"  We  entered  Yreka,  August  14th,  without  the 
loss  of  an  animal  by  the  way,  and  having  expe- 
rienced not  a  day's  delay,  except  the  two  spent  at 
Fort  Laramie,  and  having  made  the  quickest  time 
of  any  emigrant  party  up  to  that  date.  After  rest- 
ing a  few  days,  we  effected  the  passage  of  the  Sis- 
kiyous,  at  that  early  day  no  trifling  feat.  The  men 
and  women,  accomplished  it  on  foot,  while  the 
wagons  were  let  down  the  precipitous  sides  of  the 
range,  by  means  of  strong  ropes  wound  around  giant 
trees,  and  allowed  to  uncoil  as  the  vehicles  de- 
scended. In  this  fashion  did  we  make  our  entrance 
into  the  beautiful  Rogue  River  Valley." 


?i^l~ 


m 


I,VII. 
Oyei^  the  Sisi^iyous— Down  the 

^ANON   OP    THE   SAGI^AMBNTO. 


..'■'"!  'I 
li-'  '  .    ■ 


i! 


III 


Ji"  =.'         i 


BEING  not  at  all  pleased  with  the  treatment  I 
received  from  the  ocean,  during  my  voyage 
from  San  Francisco  to  Portland  last  June,  I  deter- 
mined to  return  to  the  Gold  State  "  overland,"  as 
they  saj  on  this  upper  coast.  This  decision,  in  part, 
had  brought  me  into  Southern  Oregon.  And  now 
having  spent  ten  weeks  among  its  inspiring  scenes 
and  kindly  people,  I  took  seat,  early  one  crisp  morn- 
ing, the  middle  of  April,  in  a  coach  of  the  Califor- 
nia and  Oregon  Stage  Line,  eight  miles  out  from 
Ashland,  and  soon  after  began  the  ascent  of  the 
Siskiyou  Mountains.  The  thoroughfare  over  the 
range,  which  winds  up  and  up  among  the  mag- 
nificent scenery,  is  a  toll-road,  and  is  usually  in 
good  repair.  But  heavy  rains  having  fallen  for 
days  previously,  the  wheels  of  the  vehicle  often 
sank  nearly  to  the  hub  in  the  thick,  adhesive  mud. 
The  six  strong  horses  strained  and  pulled,  and  were 
halted  occasionally  to  take  breath.  At  a  quarter 
before  eleven  the  summit  had  been  gained.  Then 
a  single  turn  of  the  wheels,  and  we  were  descend- 
ing toward  the  California  line,  which  runs  a  little 

594 


OVER  THE  SISKIYOUS. 


595 


IB 


nent  I 
voyage 

deter- 
nd,"  as 
in  part, 
od  now 
y  scenes 
p  morn- 
Califbr- 
ut  from 
of  the 
|3ver  the 
he  mag- 
nially  in 

alien  for 
cle   often 

ive  mud. 

and  were 

a  quarter 
.  Then 
descend - 
8  a  little 


south  of  the  crest.  Thereafter,  until  we  reached 
the  fine  rolling  valley  below,  notwithstanding  the 
skillful  driving,  we  were  tossed,  .shaken,  and  thrown 
about  in  exceedingly  amusing  fashion.  Neverthe- 
less the  ride  was  a  delightful  one.  I  should  enjoy 
repeating  it  to-morrow. 

Of  the  five  passengers  inside,  one  was  a  pretty 
little  woman  of  Ashland,  attended  by  tM'o  young 
sons,  all  bound  to  San  Biego,  where  she  had  prop- 
erty she  ])ropo.sed  to  sell  while  the  present  remark- 
able "  boom  in  that  city  was  at  its  height,"  as  she 
expressed  it.  At  two  o'clock  we  dashed  up  to  a 
neat  stage-station,  quite  from  under  the  Siskiyous, 
for  dinner.  Leaving  there  with  fresh  te:ims,  we 
wheeled  along  through  Cottonwood,  Klauu\th,  and 
Shasta  Valleys  toward  Yreka,  the  great  stage-center 
of  all  the  Northern  California  world,  with  noble 
Mount  Shasta  often  in  view,  now  on  this  side,  now 
on  that,  according  as  we  turned  in  our  devious  way. 
At  the  sunsetting,  its  head  flooded  with  rich  rose- 
color,  it  made  a  glorious  appearance,  and,  as  the 
twilight  faded  into  night,  all  its  tints  softened  into 
a  flesh-like  pink  glow.  Finally,  the  frequency  of 
lights,  and  the  sounds  of  many  footsteps  and  voices, 
announced  our  arrival  in  Yreka.  And,  shortly,  a 
pleasant  voice  at  the  door  of  the  coach  said :  "  You 


» 


1 


unload  here 

They  were  the  words   of  Mr.    A.  H.  Burrows, 
the  general  agent  of  the  line,  and  a  resident  of  the 


594 


U-lm  4 


596 


NORTHERN  CALIFORNIA. 


m 


1  M  ■•! 


place.  The  gentleman  soon  had  the  contents  of  the 
vehicle,  men,  women,  boys,  cloaks,  umbrellas,  and 
lunch-baskets  out  upon  the  sidewalk,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment or  two  had  learned  the  names  and  destination 
of  all.  Courteous,  attentive  to  the  wish  of  every 
passenger,  and  wonderfully  executive,  at  the  end  of 
twenty  minutes  he  had  replaced  all  in  a  larger  and 
more  comfortable  coach ;  had  consigned  us  to  the 
care  of  one  of  the  line's  most  competent  drivers, 
and,  with  a  kindly  "Good-night,"  had  started  us 
out  into  the  cold  and  starlight  again.  As  we  rat- 
tled away,  gratified  with  his  thoughtfnlness,  all  felt 
and  said:  "Mr.  Burrows  is  just  the  man  to  manage 
a  great  stage-line." 

Some  years  ago  the  California  and  Oregon  Stage 
Line  extended  from  Sacramento  to  Portland,  a  dis- 
tance of  about  six  hundred  miles.  At  the  time  of 
my  journey  the  locomotives  of  the  California  and 
Oregon  Railway  had  pushed  the  coaches  off  the 
route,  until  there  remained  but  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  miles  of  stage-travel.  To-day  San  Fran- 
cisco and  Portland  are  united  by  railway.  Certain 
considerations  render  this  notable  stage-line  deserv- 
ing of  notice.  For  many  years  it  was  the  chief 
means  of  communication  between  the  outside  world 
and  the  miners  and  settlers  in  mountainous  North- 
ern California.  Thousands  of  persons  and  millions 
of  treasure  have  its  vehicles  carried  safely  up  and 
down  the  rugged  region.     Mining  has  long  been  a 


t      : 


OVER  THE  SISKIYOVS. 


597 


mts  of  the 
rcllas,  and 
1  in  a  mo- 
lestination 
of  every 
ho  end  of 
larger  and 

us  to  the 
it  drivers, 
started  us 
As  we  rat- 
ess,  all  felt 

to  manage 

■egon  Sta<:;c 
and,  u  (Hs- 
he  time  of 
ifornia  and 
es   oif  the 
ndred  and 
San  Fran- 
Certain 
ine  deserv- 
the   chief 
side  world 
ous  North- 
nd  millions 
ely  up  and 
mg  been  a 


leading  pursuit  in  that  part  of  the  State,  and  every 
Friday  morning,  an  express  messenger  "comes  up 
from  below" — a  phrase  usually  denoting  San  Fran- 
cisco, but  applicable  to  any  portion  of  the  State 
south  of  the  wonderful  hill-country — on  the  stage 
to  take  charge  of  the  treasure-boxes  awaiting  him 
at  different  points.  In  these  boxes  the  crude  gold 
is  conveyed  from  the  mines  to  the  mint  in  San 
Francisco,  the  express  companies  being  responsible 
for  their  safe  delivery.  These  messengers  have  been 
going  to  and  fro  for  years.  Nevertheless,  scarcely 
a  day  passes  in  which  one  or  more  treasure-boxes 
are  not  borne  southward  on  the  stage,  intrusted  to 
the  driver.  The  passengers  are  never  aware  of  the 
fact.  Frequently  the  contents  of  a  box  are  of  great 
value.  A  heavy  amount  of  gold,  as  I  learned  next 
day,  came  down  with  ourselves  from  Yreka. 

From  time  to  time,  in  the  earlier  days,  the  coast 
was  startled  by  reports  that  a  great  stage-robbery 
had  been  committed  in  this  region.  Such  events 
have  become  more  rare  of  late.  But  numerous  are 
the  tales  afloat  among  the  Siskiyou  hills  and  gorges 
of  exploits  performed  by  daring  "road  agents." 
The  experienced  robber  seldom  stopped  a  coach  on 
a  down  grade.  And,  usually,  he  was  "  too  gentle- 
manly to  plunder  the  lady  passengers."  Sometimes 
he  left  all  the  occupants  unmolested,  contenting 
himself  with  securing  the  rich  treasure-boxes  only. 

The  stage  company  provides   relays   of  horses 

51 


\n 


W 


WWWih 

Hi   i 


11 


598 


NORTHERN  CAfJFOKNlA. 


every  twelve  miles,  and,  ordinarily,  changes  drivers 
every  ten  hours.  But  on  important  occasions  a 
trusty  man  is  kept  longer  at  the  lines.  The  kind- 
ness, intelligence,  and  civility  of  the  men  serving  in 
this  capacity  are  remarkahle.  Well  acquainted  with 
the  country,  they  are  ready  to  answer  all  questions, 
and  are  thoughtful  of  the  traveler's  comfort.  A 
wearisome  night-ride  under  the  care  of  one  of  them 
sets  forth  his  characteristics  in  good  light.  The 
line  carries  a  heavy  equipment  in  men,  horses,  and 
coaches.  Fifty  thousand  dollars,  it  is  said,  main- 
tains the  service  one  year. 

Promptly  at  six  o'clock  next  morning  the  lines 
over  our  six-in-hand  dropped  beside  the  stage-office 
in  Strawberry  Valley,  forty  miles  south  of  Yreka. 
Slowly  the  bruised  and  hungry  passengers  alighted, 
and  made  an  efimt  to  walk  to  the  Mount  Shasta 
Hotel,  a  few  rods  down  the  vale.  It  had  been  my 
intention  to  pn;^R  a  couple  of  days  at  this  point,  but, 
upon  perceiving  that  the  place  consisted  of  but  two 
hotels  and  the  station,  I  turned  to  the  lady  at  my 
side  and  said:  "I  shall  continue  my  journey.  There 
is  nothing  to  detain  me  here." 

She  had  been  there  before,  and  quietly  replied : 
"  See  there." 

I  turned,  and  almost  at  my  side  stood  Mount 
Shasta  frowning  upon  me  from  an  awful  altitude. 
Upon  glancing  in  another  direction,  Mount  Eddy 
confronted  me,  no  farther  away,  and  a  regal  cone 


OVKR  THE  SISKIYOUS. 


599 


IriverB 
ions  a 
!  k'md- 
^•ing  in 
ed  with 
estinns, 
ort.     A 
of  tiiem 
t.     The 
ses,  and 
1,  raain- 

the  lines 
jge-office 
»f  Yreka. 
alighted, 
it  Shasta 
been  ray 
oint,  but, 
but  two 
dy  at  my 
ly.   There 


re 


plied ; 


od  Mount 
I  altitude. 
)unt  Eddy 
egal  cone 


wrappc'cl  in  da/-zliiig  white;  while  at  tin*  foot  of  the 
valley  a  third  white  cone  shot  up  into  the  air.  At 
the  door  of  the  hotel  we  were  met  hy  a  fair  mountain 
maiden,  the  daughter  of  Mrs.  FeUows,  the  landlady, 
who  invited  us  to  seats  before  the  mammoth  fire- 
place in  the  office,  wherein  snapped  and  flamed  a 
pile  of  wood,  filled  with  resin.  Shortly  after,  Mrs. 
Fellows  herself  appearing,  upon  learning  my  name, 
place  of  residence  in  the  East, and  the  reasons  for  my 
gypsy  life  on  the  coast,  said,  in  a  most  kindly  way: 

"  Sow,  you  are  not  going  on  hy  this  stage.  I 
was  brought  up  and  married  only  forty  miles  from 
Cleveland,  so  I  shall  adopt  you  for  two  days.  In 
that  time  you  will  get  nicely  rested,  and  will  have 
acquainted  yourself  with  the  wonders  of  Strawberry 
A^alley.  Besides,  my  brother  is  the  stage  agent 
here,  and  he  will  see  that  you  have  the  outside  seat 
going  down  the  Sacramento  Canon.  You  must  not 
miss  that  scenery.  Moreover,  after  dinner  we  will 
drive  you  to  the  head-v/aters  of  the  Sacramento, 
another  sight  worthy  your  effort  to  see." 

These  pleasant  inducements  shattered  my  reso- 
lution to  proceed.  So,  after  a  nice  breakfast  witli 
the  lady  after  my  companions  had  gone,  and  a  re- 
freshing nap  in  a  room  sheltered  by  a  great  "  Balm 
of  Gilead  tree,"  I  sallied  forth  with  Mr.  Lamphier, 
the  courteous  landlord,  a  brother  of  IVj'rs.  Fellows, 
to  study  Mount  Shasta,  the  masterpiece  among  a 
thousand  surprising  works  of  Nature. 


'■it  I 


:  V  ■  -■ : 


i 


ft  I 


600 


NORTHERN  CALIFORNIA. 


The  mighty  mountain  rises  into  the  air  a  dis- 
tance of  one  thousand  four  hundred  and  forty-tour 
feet  above  sea-level.  Strawberry  Valley  itself  is 
three  thousand  five  hundred  and  sixty  feet  above 
the  ocean,  and  above  this  Shasta  towers,  a  single 
august  cone,  ten  thousand  four  hundred  and  forty 
feet.  "  Its  base  circumference  measures  eighty 
miles."  Officers  of  the  United  States  Coast  Survey 
pronounce  it  the  noblest  elevation  in  America,  with 
the  exception  of  jNlount  St.  Elias,  whose  altitude  ap- 
proaches seventeen  thousand  feet.  Mount  Whitney 
lacks  the  imposing  presence  of  Shasta,  but  is  slightly 
higher.  In  altitude  Mount  Tacoma  more  nearly 
e(|uals  the  monarch  than  any  other  snow-cone  of  the 
coast.  Mount  Shasta  is  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  miles  north  of  San  Francisco,  and  over  three 
hundred  miles  north  of  Mount  Hamilton,  the  seat 
of  the  great  Lick  Observatory,  above  which  eleva- 
tion it  rises  ten  thousand  feet.  During  my  visit  to  the 
observatory  one  year  ago  its  custodian  iuforraed  me 
that,  on  clear  days,  he  had  been  able  to  see  Shasta, 
from  that  point,  with  the  naked  eye!  The  princely 
object  is  visible,  also,  from  the  State  House  in  Sac- 
ramento. It  can  be  seen  by  the  mariner  far  out  to 
sea,  notwithstanding  the  intervening  Coast  Range. 
And,  "  in  early  days,  it  was  an  object  of  pleasure 
to  the  emigrant  toiling  over  the  parched  stretches 
of  Nevada."  The  distance  in  an  air-line  from  the 
Mount  Shasta  Hotel  to  the  extreme  summit  of  the 


OVER  THE  S rs KI YO US. 


601 


1  dis- 
r-t'our 

elf  is 

above 

single 
forty 

eighty 

Purvey 

a,  with 

ide  ap- 

rhitney 

slightly 
nearly 

e  of  the 

seventy - 

»r  three 
he  seat 
eleva- 
it  to  the 
raed  me 
Shasta, 
princely 
e  in  Sac- 
iar  out  to 
t  Kange. 
pleasure 
stretches 
from  the 
lit  of  the 


cone  measures  twelve  miles.  Yet  it  appears  to  mo 
to  stand  just  beyond  the  garden  fence. 

Anciently  Shasta  was  a  powerful  volcano.  From 
its  now  quiescent  crater  flowed  streams  of  lava, 
desolating  the  land  for  many  square  miles.  The 
largest  of  these  craters,  one-half  mile  in  diameter, 
is  on  the  western  peak.  Inside  this  opening  stands 
a  cone  of  lava  several  hundred  feet  in  height,  sup- 
posed to  be  a  product  of  the  final  eruption.  At 
the  base  of  this  column  lies  a  miniaturo  luice  of 
solid  black  ice,  clearly  showing  how  completely 
the  old  fires  have  died  out  of  that  side  of  the  mon- 
arch's heart.  But  the  eastern  peak  tells  another 
story.  There  his  vitality  is  something  fearful,  as  is 
shown  by  a  cluster  of  boiling  springs  covering 
about  a  half-acre  of  ground  The  water  of  these 
fountains  is  highly  mineralized,  and  in  some  of 
then"  boils  violently,  while  from  numerous  fissures 
-ibiAit,  hot  steam  escapes  with  much  ado.  From 
one  cleft  a  volume  of  scalding  vapor  ascends,  which 
is  two  feet  in  diameter.  On  this  spot  a  terrible 
rigor  is  said  to  prevail  in  Winter,  yet  both  the 
water  and  the  ground  maintain  tueir  high  tempera- 
ture. *'  Neither  cold,  snow,  ice,  nor  altitude  affects 
it,"  says  tiie  Coast  Survpy.  And — marvelous  in- 
deed— on  one  sid«^  ol  this  ihcrnial  peak  exists  a 
perennial  glacier! 

For  the  following  "nteresting  paragraph  relating 
to  these   hot  sprinj,.i  I  am  indebted   to  Mr.  Tiam- 


» 


:!) 


W: 


MU, 


!. 


602 


NORTHERN  CALIFORNIA. 


phier,  as  I  am  for  a  great  variety  of  information 
pertaining  to  Northern  California.  Let  me  say,  in 
passing,  that  Mr.  Lamphier  made  the  ever-memo- 
rable journey  across  the  plains  in  1852,  coming 
from  Akron,  Ohio,  by  the  Carson  Valley  route. 
He  has,  therefore,  been  a  resident  of  the  co'isl 
thirty-s*x  years. 

On  the  28th  of  April,  1875,  Piofessor  John 
Muir,  of  San  Francisco,  and  Lieutenant  A.  F. 
Rogers,  of  the  Coast  Survey,  accomranied  by  a 
guide,  made  the  ascent  of  Shasta  to  arrange  for 
erecting  a  monument  upon  its  highest  point,  as  or- 
dered by  the  Government,  at  night  returning  to  the 
valley.  The  next  day  Mr.  Muir  and  an  assistant, 
named  Fay,  went  up,  leaving  Lieutenant  Rogers 
below  to  answer  signals.  Several  signs  had  been 
exchanged  when,  about  two  in  the  afternoon,  a  furi- 
ous storm  arose  on  the  mountain,  putting  an  end  to 
their  work.  Rapidly  increasing  in  severity,  it 
soon  became  a  terrific  hurricane,  rendering  descent 
impossible.  There  was  then  no  alternative  but 
to  pass  the  night  on  the  mountain.  The  men  were 
provided  with  neither  wraps  nor  means  for  making 
a  tire.  They  therefore  sought  the  hot  springs,  and 
rather  than  freeze  to  death,  threw  themselves  down 
amid  the  scalding  mud.  The  mercury  registered  a 
temperature  below  zero,  and  the  cold  ^i  u'  swept 
over  them  with  great  force.  Ertlrjig  ih^  <, ".'<^r  side 
of  their  bodies  was  in  torture  fron^  the  heat.    Thsy 


OVER  THE  STSKIYOUS. 


603 


then  turned  the  freezing  part  to  the  blistering  soil, 
the  cold  air  partially  soothing  their  sufferings. 
Now  they  lay  with  faces  downward,  now  upon 
their  backs,  as  the  heat  or  cold  rendered  their 
position  unendurable.  Thus,  at  last,  the  night  wore 
away.  The  morning  dawning,  both  managed  to 
get  upon  their  feet  and  begin  the  descent,  though 
wild  with  pain  and  weak  from  loss  of  sleep 
and  food. 

At  daybreak,  too,  their  friends  in  the  valley  were 
astir,  making  preparations  for  their  rescue.  Upon 
gaining  the  camp,  some  eight  miles  up  the  mountain, 
and  the  point  beyond  which  conveyances  are  not 
taken,  they  met  Mr.  Fay,  who  had  best  preserved  his 
strength.  Administering  to  his  comfort,  the  friends 
pushed  on  in  search  of  his  companion,  whom  they 
finally  found,  too  crippled  to  walk.  Placing  him  in 
a  blanket  they  conveyed  him  to  the  camp,  and 
thence  brought  both  to  "Sissons,"  the  hotel  across 
the  way,  where  Mr.  Lamphier  assisted  in  dressing 
the  injuries  of  Professor  Muir,  one  side  of  whose 
person  was  severely  blistered  ;  and  so  disabled  were 
his  feet  that,  upon  his  heroically  taking  a  seat  in 
the  stage  for  San  Francisco  the.  second  day  follow- 
ing, they  stoutly  refused  to  be  thrust  into  shoes, 
choosing  a  covering  of  cloths  and  blankets  instead. 

"Notwithstanding  his  harsh  treatment  on  that 
occasion,"  said  Mr.  Lamphirr,  "  the  professor  has  a 
warm  affection   for   the  old    mountain.      Once   he 


If 


t    'M 


i<l 


r 

1 

1  ?' 

'  i^l 

1 

(]M 

3 

. 

Si 

Hi 

iil 

604 


NORTHERN  CALIFORNIA. 


camped  about  its  sides,  alone,  for  five  days,  quietly 
studying  its  geological  formation,  while  his  friends 
in  the  valley  were  scared  to  death  about  him,  lest 
he  i    <    '      '1  devoured  by  wild  beasts." 

In  <  dber  following  this  incident,  the  Gov- 
ernment erected  upon  the  highest  point  of  the 
mountain,  to  serve  as  a  guide  to  the  mariner  on  the 
Pacific,  a  hollow,  cylindrical  iron  pillar,  crowned 
with  a  cap  of  polished  metal,  for  reflecting  the  sun's 
rays.  The  column  is  eighteen  and  a  half  feet  high, 
is  strongly  anchored  to  the  rock,  and  is  filled  with 
stones.  With  the  aid  of  a  good  glass,  it  can  be 
seen  one  hundred  miles  away. 

Entering  the  room  where  I  sat,  writing,  soon 
after  dinner,  Mrs.  Fellows,  who  is  a  woman  under 
medium  height,  extremely  active,  chatty,  mirthful^ 
independent,  generous  to  a  fault,  and  full  of  sym- 
paO»y  for  the  suffering,  said  :  "  I  have  ordered  the 
light  wagon  to  take  you  on  the  promised  ricie.  I 
am  going  a  part  of  the  way  to  catch  some  trout" — 
she  was  an  expert  angler—"  for  our  breakfast.  So 
be  ready." 

Accordingly  four  of  us,  including  the  daughter, 
and  a  young  gentleman  who  appeared  to  find  pleas- 
ure in  going  wherever  she  went,  rattled  off  through 
the  woods  toward  the  base  of  a  massive  mountain, 
near  the  head  of  the  valley.  Half  the  distance  ac- 
complished, the  angler  alighted,  bait,  hook,  and  line 
in  hand,  and  marched  away  toward  a  favorite  haunt 


..4.:_ 


OVER  THE  SISKIYOUS. 


605 


of  the  delicious  fish  she  sought.  We,  who  re- 
mained, rode  on  until  within  a  few  rods  of  our  ob- 
jective point,  when,  L  ^ving  the  vehicle,  we  threaded 
our  way  .  nng  underbrush  and  tall  trees,  to  a  point 
where  the  soui.d  of  rjerry  water  broke  upon  our 
ears.  Then  another  step  or  two,  and  lo !  what 
a  sight  ! 

From  the  very  base  of  an  enormous  coue*,  the 
steep  sides  of  which  were  clothed  with  heavy  tim- 
ber, there  broke  forth,  and  rolled  away  among  trees 
and  over  stones,  a  multitude  of  swift,  tiny  streams. 
On  they  went,  singing,  tumbling,  foaming,  down  a 
narrow  valley.  They  issued  from  all  along  the  base 
of  the  mountain,  for  a  distance  of,  probably,  two 
hundred  feet.  For  one-half  that  space  the  water 
stained  the  ground  and  stones  a  dull  red  showing 
the  presence  of  iron  in  the  liquid.  The  remamder  of 
the  streams  were  of  a  clear  white  or  soft  green  color, 
proving  that  all  either  spring  from  two  sources 
within  the  cone,  or  flow  through  beds  of  different 
mineral  deposit.  The  whole  scene  instantly  sug- 
gested the  idea  that  a  mighty  Hand  had  set  the  pon- 
derous dome  of  rock  down  upon  a  small  lake,  iu 
such  position  as  to  forever  press  out,  on  one  side, 
exactly  so  imich  water. 

This,  then,  was  the  source  of  the  main  fork  of 
the  Sacramento  River,  down  whose  remarkable 
gorge  I  was  soon  to  have  the  pleasure  of  riding  an 
entire  day.      The  source  was  certainly  worthy  of 


I  A 


,1 


i 


imtfW 


111; 


I  <  v 


•  i  I 


E<  1  , 


I        i 


606 


A^O  R  THl'JHX  C  ALIFORM  A . 


the  stream.  I  climbed  the  moiiutaiu  to  a  few  feet 
above  where  the  rivulets  break  forth,  and  turned  to 
watch  them.  A  little  way  down  the  valley  they  all 
became  one.  I  could  hear  their  low  laughter  as 
they   gradually  sought  each   other's   company,  and 


-jrr  -   - 

— -^r;:T-.-_       _r 

— 

'^ 

-            _— 

= — 

F'»    I 

~^-       - 

-— 

KAk. 

— -  a 

m 

— 1 

A  OalifornlR  Scene. 

then  together  sjied  away  to    find    the   sea   through 
the  Golden  Gate. 

Quite  too  soon  panic  six  o'clock  Thursday  morn- 
ing, and  also  "  the  stage  for  below."  But  I  desired 
to  be  in  San    Francisco  next  day  ;  so,  bidding  the 


m 


OVER  THE  SISKIYOUS. 


607 


hrouojh 


morn- 
desired 
ing  the 


kind  friends  in  peerless  Strawberry,  farewell,  I 
mounted  to  the  seat  so  courteously  reserved  for  me 
beside  the  driver,  and  away  sprang  our  triple-teara 
toward  the  banks  of  the  Sacramento.  A  couple 
of  hours'  winding  among  lofty  hills,  through  de- 
lightfully romantic  scenes,  brought  us  to  the  deep, 
green-tinted  river.  Thereafter,  the  entire  day,  we 
crossed  scores  of  its  tributaries  hurrying  down  the 
the  steep  heights.  Now  our  road  lay  close  to  the 
brink,  almost  on  a  level  with  the  water ;  and  now 
on  the  crest  of  a  long  spur,  hundreds  of  feet  above 
the  swift  current.  On  every  hand,  all  day  long, 
rose  stately  trees  and  grand  elevations,  relieved, 
occasionally,  by  inviting  valleys.  About  noon  our 
outfit  swept  out  upon  a  green  plateau,  in  the  midst 
of  which  appeared  the  hotel  and  orchards  of  Hazel 
Creek,  a  favorite  Summer  resort  among  the  Sacra- 
mento hills. 

As  the  hungry  six-in-hand  trotted  *  up  to  the 
gate,  the  proprietor,  Mr.  S.  F.  Southern,  stepped 
out,  and,  with  a  manner  not  a  tithe  so  lofty  as  the 
country  around  him,  invited  us  in  to  dinner.  Thirty 
minutes  later,  ourselves  refreshed,  and  a  new  relay 
of  teams  before  the  stage,  we  pressed  on,  amid 
splendid  scenery,  until,  the  sun  gone  down,  we 
wheeled  into  a  little  hamlet  of  but  a  day's  growth, 
for  the  night. 

Almost  infinite  had  been  the  variety  of  scenery 
through  which   we  had  come.     Countless  were  the 


NORTHERN  CALIFORNIA. 


i  I 


Wi 


\l\^ 


N'5    '     i 
ft ~ 


cones,  pinnacles,  and  ridges  into  which  the  Creator 
had  pulled  the  earth  up.  Some  of  the  cones  he 
painted  white  to  the  end  of  time;  others  he  gar- 
nished with  trees,  forever  green ;  many  he  filled  with 
gold,  silver,  or  iron;  down  the  sides  of  hundreds  he 
led  narrow  streams,  foaming,  and  full  of  glee,  the 
delight  of  every  lover  of  running  brooks;  between 
scores  he  sank  cafions,  or  gorges,  deep,  and  some- 
times dangerous;  multitudes  of  them  he  carpets  in 
Spring-time  with  flowers,  fragrant  and  beautiful, 
and  millions  in  number;  where  it  pleased  him,  he 
piled  up  rocks  massive  and  mighty,  capable,  one 
would  think,  of  resisting  the  "  fervent  heat "  which, 
St.  Peter  says,  shall  melt  the  elements  in  the  last 
days ;  where  it  pleased  him,  too,  he  placed  a  world 
of  slabs,  or  blocks  of  stone,  and  allowed  chemical 
action,  or  subterranean  fire,  to  tip  them  aside  from 
the  perpendicular,  making  them  suggestive  of  man- 
kind bent  out  of  moral  perpendicularity  by  the  force 
of  original  sin. 

The  little  hamlet  being  the  latest  termination  of 
the  stage-line,  we  took  cars  next  morning  for  San 
Francisco^  and  by  mid-forenoon  were  at  Redding, 
an  attractive  city  in  the  Sacramento  Valley,  which, 
from  that  point,  expands  into  a  broad  plain,  finely 
cultivated,  or  gemmed  with  natural  parks.  Down 
this  wide  campaign  coursed  the  iron  horse  the  hot 
day  long.  And  as  the  sun  set,  we  once  more  caught 
sight  of  the  sea  through  the  Golden  Gate. 


Creator 
jnes   he 
he  gar- 
led  with 
dreds  he 
ylee,  the 
between 
id  some- 
aipets  in 
beautiful, 
I  him,*  he 
(able,  one 
b"  which, 
1  the  last 
d  a  world 
1  chemical 
aside  from 
ire  of  man- 
ty  the  force 


Qination  of 
ng  for  San 
tt  Redding, 
Hey,  which, 
plain,  finely 
rks.     Down 
Lorse  the  hot 
more  caught 
rate. 


